UC-NRLF 


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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


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OLD 

Saint  Augustine 


A  Story  of  Three  Centuries 


BY 


CHARLES     B.     REYNOLDS 


Illustrated   with    Artotypes   and   Fac-Slmile   Engravings 


St.  Augustine,  Florida 
E.  H.  REYNOLDS 

1888 


Copyright,  1887. 

By  Chas.  B.  Reynolds. 

All  Rights  Reserved, 


GIKT 


Old  St.  Augustine. 

Unstable  as  the  ever  shifting  sands  of  its  harbor  bar 
have  been  the  changing  fortunes  of  St.  Augustine.  To 
tell  the  story,  briefly,  clearly  and  with  accuracy  of  his- 
torical detail,  is  the  endeavor  in  the  following  chapters. 

Some  of  the  illustrations  are  from  drawings  by  old-time 
artists,  who  were  actors  here  in  the  scenes  of  long  ago. 
Some  have  been  printed  on  the  camera  by  the  sunlight 
of  to-day;  they  are  new  pictures,  but  of  such  things 
as  are  old — the  massive  walls  of  a  decaying  fortress,  the 
pillars  of  a  crumbling  gateway,  an  ancient  cathedral,  a 
more  ancient  palm  tree.  All  are  memorials  which  speak 
of  the  past,  for  this  is  our  theme. 

The  purpose  of  the  book  will  be  attained,  if  with  its 
aid  the  reader  shall  see  the  St.  Augustine  of  the  present 
tinged  and  illumined  with  the  light  of  its  past. 

St.  Augustine,  Florida. 


275 


THE    COQUINA    EDITION. 

The  binding  of  the  present  edition  is  a  photographic 
reproduction  of  coquina,  the  building  stone  peculiar  to 
St.  Augustine.  Fort  Marion,  the  city  gateway,  the  sea- 
wall and  many  of  the  older  dwellings  are  of  coquina.  It 
is  a  natural  rock  formation,  quarried  from  the  island 
opposite  the  town,  and  should  not  be  confounded  with 
the  artificial  concrete  which  is  now  employed  for  building 
purposes. 


CONTENTS. 

Page, 

I.  The  Spaniard*s  Mission,       -        -        -  ii 

IL  The  Huguenots  in  Florida,     -        -  14 

III.  The  Coming  of  Menendez,   -        -         -  20 

IV.  Founding  a  City,      .        -        -        -  25 
V.  Fort  Caroline, 29 

VL  Matanza, 34 

VII.  French  Vengeance,      -        -        -        -  43 

VIIL  After  Twenty  Years,       -         .        .  49 

IX,  The  English  Sea-Kings,       -        -        -  51 

X.  The  Franciscans,      -        -        -        -  62 

XI.  The  Boucaniers, 69 

XII.  British  Cannon  Balls,     -        -        -  75 

XIII.  The  MiNORCANS, ^t^ 

XIV.  Rangers  and  Liberty  Boys,      -        -  91 
XV.  The  Old  World  in  the  New,        -        -  100 

XVI.  The  Seminole, 108 

XVII.  Later  Years, 118 

XVIII.  Fort  Marion, 125 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page. 

Fort  Marion,     -        -         -        -  Frontispiece. 

From  the  tower  of  the  Hotel  San  Marco,  looking  eastward, 
showing  the  Harbor,  St.  Anastatia  Island  and  the  ocean. 
Artotype  from  negative  (1885)  by  H.  L.  Roberts. 

A  Draught  of  St.  Augustine  and  Harbor,  vi 

Fac-simile  from  the  "Map  of  the  West  Indies,"  by  Herman 
Moll,  London,  1720. 

The  River  of  Dolphins, 15 

Fac-simile  of  drawing  by  the  French  artist,  Jacques  Le  Moyne. 
From  the  first  edition  of  the  Brevis  Narratio^  Frankfort- 
on-the-Main,  1591. 

The  Pillar  of  Stone, 17 

With  the  Arms  of  France.  Fac-simile  of  the  drawing  by 
Jacques  Le  Moyne.    From  the  Brevis  NarratiOy  1591. 

Fort  Caroline, 31 

Fac-simile  of  the  drawing  by  Jacques  Le  Moyne.  From  the 
Brevis  Narratio^  1591. 

The  Assault  by  Francis  Drake,       -        -        -        51 

Fac-simile  of  the  plate  in  DeBry's  America^  Pars  VIII, 
Frankfort-on-tne-Main,  1599. 

Spanish  Fort  at  Matanzas  Inlet,   -        -        -        69 

Formerly  defending  the  approach  to  St.  Augustine  from  the 
south.    Artotype  from  negative  (1884)  by  W.  A.  Cox. 

Fort  Marion, 75 

From  the  southwest,  showing  glacis,  southwest  bastion  and 
sentry-box,  west  curtain  and  south  curtain,  with  sally- 
port.   Artotype  from  negative  (1884)  by  W.  A.  Cox. 

The  Siege  by  Oglethorpe,         -        -        -        -        8i 

Fac<4imile  of  an  engraving  of  the  time  by  Thomas  Silver. 


viii  Illustrations. 

Old  House  on  Charlotte  Street,   -        -        -        83 

From  the  south.    Artotypc  from  negative  (1884)  by  W.  A.  Cox. 

The  Old  Date  Palm, 83 

Showing  St.  Francis  street.    Artotype  from  negative  (1884)  by 
W.  A.  Cox. 

Plan  of  British  St.  Augustine,        -        -        -        91 

Faosimile  of  the  eneraving  by  T.  JeflFerys.    From  the  "Descrip- 
tion of  East  Florida/'  by  Wm.  Stork,  London,  1769. 

Ruins  of  the  City  Gateway,    -        -        -        -       loi 

From  the  north,  looking  in.    Artotype  from  negative  (1885)  by 
H.  L.  Roberts. 

The  Cathedral, 121 

From  the  Plaza.    Artotype  from  negative  (1885)  by  H.  L.  Rob- 
erts. 


Fort  Marion, 125 

ior,  showing  portion  of  court,  entrances  to  casemates,  and 
inclined  plane  leading  to  ramparts.    Artotype  from  nega- 


Interior,  showing  portion  of  court,  entrances  to  casemates,  and 
inclined  plane  leading  to  ra 
tive(i884)by  W.  A.Cox. 


Fort  Marion, 131 

Portion  of  the  west  curtain,  showing  on  the  left  fig  tree  growine 
from  the  wall,  and  on  the  right  the  casemate  through 
which  Coacoochee  escaped.  Artotype  from  negative 
(1884)  by  W.  A.  Cox. 

♦iK*  The  map  on  page  19  is  of  a  portion  of  the  Florida  coast,  showing  the  Indian 
village  of  Seloy  and  Fort  Caroline  on  the  River  of  May  (the  present  St.  Johns). 
The  map  on  page  28  is  of  the  same,  after  the  arrival  of  the  Spaniards  and  the 
establishment  of  San  Augustin,  on  the  site  of  Seloy.  The  map  on  page  35  shows 
the  positions  of  the  Spaniards  at  Fort  San  Mateo  (formerly  Fort  Caroline)  and  San 
Augustin;  and  to  the  south  is  shown  the  inlet,  the  scene  of  the  events  narrated  in 
the  text. 

*♦*  The  coquina  cover  is  from  a  negative  by  Edward  Bierstadt. 

***The  portrait  of  Menendez,  facine  page  25,13  "afac-slmile  from  an  old 
Spanish  engraving  of  undoubted  authorihr."  It  is  copied  from  Mr.  Francis 
Parkinan's  "  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World,"  by  kind  permission  of 
the  author. 


THE   TIME   AND   THE   ACTORS. 

For  the  beginning  of  the  story  we  must  go  back  over 
three  hundred  years  to  the  middle  of  the  Sixteenth 
century. 

It  was  an  age  of  romance,  when  the  caravels  of 
Columbus  had  but  just  pierced  the  cloud  of  mystery 
and  gloom  shutting  out  the  west,  and  all  Europe  was 
ringing  with  tales  of  the  wondrous  new-found  realms 
beyond  the  sunset.  It  was  an  age  of  credulous  beliefs 
and  magnificent  undertakings,  when  bold-hearted  adven- 
turers sailed  forth  in  search  of  El  Dorados  and  empires 
rich  in  barbaric  treasure.  It  was  the  age  of  Rome's 
temporal  dominion,  when  he  who  held  the  Keys  of  St. 
Peter  laid  claim  to  the  entire  New  World,  and  parceled  it 
out  among  his  faithful  children.  An  age  of  faith,  when 
in  every  happening  devout  believers  recognized  the  direct 
personal  manifestation  of  a  controlling  supreme  God;  of 
intense  religious  feuds,  when  difference  of  creed  meant 
enmity  the  most  unrelenting  and  cruelty  the  most  merci- 
less; of  fanaticism,  when  deluded  men,  believing  them- 
selves chosen  instruments  of  the  Most  High,  mistook  the 


X  The   Time  and  the  Actors. 

instigation  of  the  Devil  for  the  inspiration  of  God;  of 
heroes,  when  at  the  hands  of  such  bigots  brave  men 
knew  how  to  die  rather  than  surrender  the  faith  that  was 
dear  to  them;  finally,  of  a  new  knight  errantry,  when, 
indignant  at  a  sovereign's  apathy,  individuals  took 
upon  themselves  single-handed  the  task  of  avenging 
their  martyred  countrymen. 

These  were  the  times  and  the  actors;  and  such  were 
the  motives  that  we  shall  find  reflected  in  the  opening 
chapters  of  St.  Augustine's  strangely  chequered  history. 


I. 

THE   SPANIARD'S   MISSION. 

pPAIN  arrogated  to  herself  exclusive  dominion  of 
the  New  World.     Its  whole  vast  territory  was 
doubly  hers,  first  by  right  of  discovery,  and 
then  by  Papal  grant. 

In  Mexico  and  Peru  she  had  abundantly  made  good 
this  claim  by  the  glorious  achievements  of  the  Conquista- 
dors; but  in  Terra  Florida  each  successive  attempt  at 
conquest  had  resulted  in  a  failure  more  disastrous  than 
the  last.  Expedition  after  expedition,  made  up  of  the 
flower  of  Spanish  chivalry,  had  landed  on  the  shores  of 
Florida,  and  set  out  with  buoyant  step  upon  a  triumphal 
march  to  win  the  fabled  treasures  of  the  interior;  and  the 
forests  had  closed  behind  them.  Exhausted  by  their 
wanderings  to  and  fro,  entangled  in  swamp  and  hamak, 
harassed  by  savage  foes,  faint  with  famine  and  stricken 
with  fever,  one  brave  band  after  another  had  lost  courage, 
grown  disheartened  and  turned  back.  From  some  a 
handful  of  straggling  survivors  had  returned  to  tell  the 
tale  of  woe;  others  had  wasted  away  until  the  miserable 
remnant  fell  into  captivity;  and  still  others  had  perished 


12  Old  St.  Augustine. 

utterly.  The  history  of  Spanish  endeavor  in  Florida  had 
been  a  pitiful  record  of  disappointment.  Here  amid  the 
pines  and  savannas  had  been  proven  the  truth  of  the 
ancient  belief  that  the  world  beyond  the  sunset  was  a 
world  of  misery  anii  •death.,  '.•*  •  ;•'" 

But  the  dream  of  ^Ipry  ta.be  attamed  in  Florida  was 
not  yet  dispelled.'*  •  OV5bi'*ilie-  land  «^tili  hung  the  halo  of 
romance;  within  its  mysterious  forests  treasure  and  fame 
were  yet  waiting  to  reward  the  hero  whose  heart  should 
be  bold  to  win  them;  and  there  was  yet  one  Spaniard,  at 
least,  who,  undismayed  by  the  fate  of  Narvaez  and  De 
Soto,  would  undertake  to  wipe  out  the  shame  of  Spanish 
failure  in  North  America,  and  win  for  himself  a  place 
with  the  heroes  of  his  age.  This  new  name  in  the  story 
of  Florida  adventure  was  that  of  Don  Pedro  Menendez 
d*Avil^s,  nobleman,  companion  of  Pizarro,  soldier,  bigot. 
In  1565  Menendez  received  from  the  Spanish  sovereign, 
Philip  II.,  a  commission  to  subdue  Florida. 

The  enterprise  was  to  be  a  conquest  of  territory  and 
treasure;  and  also  much  more  than  this,  a  mission  for  the 
salvation  of  souls.  The  New  World  was  peopled  by  the 
heathen — lost  sheep  led  away  by  the  Demon;  and  they 
must  be  brought  back  into  the  fold  of  the  Church.  To 
the  standard  of  Menendez,  along  with  mail-clad  warrior 
came  black-robed  priest,  with  the  helmeted  knight  the 
cowled  friar,  beside  the  banner  of  Castile  was  borne  aloft 
the  gilded  crucifix,  and  with  pike  and  arquebuse  and 
other  munitions  of  war  were  provided  the  accessories  of 
the  mass. 

Moreover  there  was  need  of  haste.  A  most  alarming 
report  had  been  brought  to   Menendez.      The  soil  of 


The  Spaniard's  Mission.  13 

Florida  was  polluted  by  the  feet  of  heretics;  the  land 
promised  by  the  Holy  Father  to  the  faithful  had  been 
invaded  by  the  children  of  the  Arch-Demon.  The  tres- 
passers must  be  rooted  out  and  exterminated  with  fire 
and  sword.  Upon  the  instant,  the  Florida  enterprise  was 
transformed  into  a  holy  war  and  exalted  to  a  crusade. 
Zealots  flocked  to  take  part  in  the  pious  undertaking. 
As  a  century  before,  in  the  far  East,  their  ancestors  had 
wrested  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  hand  of  the  Infidel, 
so  now,  in  the  West,  the  knights  of  Biscay  and  the  Astu- 
rias  would  rescue  the  New  World  from  the  accursed  pro- 
fanation of  the  impious  heretics.  The  ranks  of  the  new 
crusaders  were  soon  filled;  and  in  June  Menendez  was 
prepared  to  set  forth  on  his  mission. 

Who  were  these  heretics  in  Florida;  and  how  had  they 
come  here,  in  defiance  of  the  proclamations  of  the  King 
of  Spain,  and  in  contempt  of  the  anathemas  of  the  Pope 
of  Rome? 


The  Huguenots  in  Florida.  15 

Laudonnifere,  had  been  on  this  same  coast  two  years 
before.  At  that  time  the  Indians  had  been  treated  with 
such  kindness  that  at  the  departure  of  the  expedition 
they  had  run  along  the  shore,  with  cries  and  lamentations 
bewailing  the  loss  of  their  new-found  friends  and  entreat- 
ing them  to  remain.  Now,  overjoyed  at  the  Frenchmen's 
return,  the  people  of  Seloy  received  Laudonni^re  with 
the  warmest  welcome  and  overwhelmed  him  with  gifts. 
But  let  him  tell  it  in  his  own  naive  way,  as  translated 
for  us  in  the  musty  old  English  text  of  Hakluyt.  "I 
went  on  land,"  he  writes — 

5)at)inff  tjttfi  £(earrteli  tj^e  Eiijer,  3f  toent  on  laiOi  to  cjpeafte 
toit^  tj^e  3rntitan£(  tDJ^uj^  toaiteH  for  U0  ttpon  tj^e  jsj^ore,  ^\i\, 
at  otir  tomminff  on  lanH,  came  iefore  tta  trpinir  ^itj  a  lotilre 
bopce,  v^  tjieir  S'ntiian  lauffuan-e :  Antipola  Bonaffou,  \sSl^vt)^ 
\^  ac;  mttc^  to  £(ap>  ^^  \xt\%tx,  frienir,  or  £(onte  mt\  U^e 
tjtnff*  after  t^ep  j&ati  maUe  berp  mucj)  of  ufi,  i^t^^  t^tm\  ttc 
tj)eir  Paracouffy,  tjat  i^  to  cap,  tjieir  ^v^x^  anH  (Sotoemottr, 
to  tol^om  ^  pre£(enteli  tertatne  tope£(  to^eretottf^  \t  toait  toell 
plea£(eti»  ant,  for  mp  otone  part,  3^  prapfiie  (Sotf  tonttntiallp 
for  tje  ffreat  lobe  tojicji  ^  Jalje  founU  xxi  tjiese  ftaubaffed, 
toj)u|&  toere  fiorrp  for  notjiinff  fint  tjjat  X%t  niffj^t  approclieli 
anU  matie  va  retire  unto  onr  ^x^%. 

iPor,  tJottffS  tjep  enUealJOttreU  bp  al  meaner  to  maite  nc 
tarp  toit!)  tf)em,  anU  %\tm^  bp  jESiffnji  tje  lieflfire  tjat  tj^ep  JjaU 
to  present  tifi  toitji  ifome  rare  tj^inff^j,  ^ti,  neijertteUfifg,  for 
manp  m^t  anH  reacionable  oceactionft,  ^  tooulU  not  £(tap  on 
i(bore  all  nlff()t ;  but  eycttdinff  mp^ielfe  for  all  tjieir  offers,  % 
embariieti  mpiselfe  a^atne,  anH  retttmeU  totoarH  w^  ^v^%. 
^otoijeit,  before  xa^  ireparture,  3f  nameU  tj)W  Etoer  tje  Eiljer 
of  Dolphines,  becaufie  at  xmz  arrtoall  ^  fiato  tjere  a 
gfreat  number  of  I3olpl)ine0,  tojjie^  toere  plapinj  v^  tje  moutb 
tbereof. 


The  Huguenots  in  Florida.  17 

as  might  be  found  in  all  the  world,  thought  the  French, 
hastened  down  to  meet  them,  "having  nothing  in  their 
mouths  but  this  word — amy^  amy,  that  is  to  say,  friend, 
friend,"  The  first  demonstrations  of  delight  over,  noth- 
ing would  do  but  that  Laudonni^re  must  accompany 
Satourioua  to  the  goodly  hill,  where  a  pillar  of  stone 
bearing  the  French  coat  of  arms  had  been  erected  by 
Ribault,  the  captain  of  the  first  expedition,  two  years 
before.  The  monument  was  found  wreathed  with  gar- 
lands, and  about  its  foot  were  many  little  baskets  of 
fruit  and  maize,  with  quivers  full  of  arrows  and  other 
tokens  of  the  Indian's  veneration.  Gathering  about  the 
mysterious  symbol,  Satourioua  and  his  people  rever- 
ently kissed  the  shaft;  and  besought  the  French  to  do 
the  like;  "which  we  would  not  deny  them,"  writes  Lau- 
donni^re,  "to  the  end  we  might  draw  them  to  be  more  in 
friendship  with  us."  An  exchange  of  presents  followed, 
the  Paracoussy  giving  the  Captain  a  wedge  of  silver,  and 
Laudonni^re  presenting  in  return  a  cutting-hook  and 
some  gilded  trinkets;  and  thus,  with  expressions  of 
mutual  good  will  and  tokens  of  friendship,  French  and 
Indians  renewed  the  league  of  perpetual  amity  and  alli- 
ance made  with  Ribault. 

After  more  coasting  and  exploration,  a  site  was  finally 
selected,  and  a  hymn  of  thanksgiving  having  been  sung, 
and  a  prayer  made  for  divine  protection,  "after  which 
every  man  began  to  take  courage,"  soldiers  and  sailors 
set  about  the  building  of  a  fort.  The  Indians  joyfully 
assisted  in  the  work,  and  with  their  aid  the  structure  was 
soon  completed.      Jacques  Le  Moyne,  the  artist,  who 

came  out  with  the  expedition,  has  pictured  the  fort  for 

a 


1 8  Old  St.  Augustine. 

us,  a  triangular  structure  of  logs,  which,  in  honor  of  the 
young  French  King,  Charles  IX.,  they  named  Fort 
Caroline. 

Laudonniere  and  his  companions  were  French  Protest- 
ants, Huguenots,  Lutherans — in  a  word,  heretics.  They 
had  come  to  establish  here  in  Florida  a  Protestant  colony, 
which  should  provide  an  asylum  and  harbor  of  refuge 
from  the  persecutions  that  threatened  to  overwhelm  the 
New  Religion  in  their  native  France. 

When  Fort  Caroline  was  completed,  the  ships  were  sent 
home  for  reinforcements.  Weeks  and  months  passed  by, 
but  they  did  not  come  again.  The  French  at  the  River 
of  May  occupied  themselves  in  strengthening  the  fortifi- 
cations, and  led  on  by  the  delusive  stories  of  distant  gold 
mines,  spent  much  time  and  endured  many  hardships  in 
fruitless  quest  of  the  precious  metal.  They  fell  into  disas- 
trous conflicts  with  the  Indians.  Sickness  came.  Laudon- 
niere was  worn  out  with  nervous  excitement  and  pros- 
trated by  a  fever.  The  provisions  were  exhausted. 
Famine  followed.  Then  mutiny.  At  length,  despairing 
of  succor,  the  wretched  colonists  built  a  crazy  craft, 
abandoned  New  France  and  were  putting  to  sea,  when 
along  came  John  Hawkins,  on  his  way  home  from  a  slave 
trading  expedition.  English  sea-king  and  Spaniard-hater, 
the  bluff  admiral  very  gladly  fitted  out  the  Frenchmen 
with  supplies  of  food;  and  left  them  one  of  his  ships. 
They  made  all  haste  to  embark,  and  were  awaiting  a 
favorable  wind  to  bear  them  away  from  Florida.  But 
they  did  not  sail.  For  on  the  29th  day  of  August  (1565) 
seven  ships  arrived  off  the  bar  of  the  River  of  May. 
They  were  from  France.     Admiral  Jean  Ribault  was  in 


Tke  Huguenots  in  Florida, 


19 


command,  and  with  him  were  300  colonists.  The  rein- 
forcements had  come  at  last.  All  was  bright  once  more  at 
Fort  Caroline;  and  never  were  pioneers  in  a  new  land 
more  buoyant  with  hope  than  were  these  Huguenots  on 
the  banks  of  the  River  of  May,  as  they  now  set  about 
in  earnest  the  establishment  of  Protestant  New  France. 

These  were  the  French  heretics  in  Florida,  whom 
Menendez  was  commissioned  to  destroy,  root  and  branch, 
from  the  soil  given  by  the  Pope  to  the  Spaniard. 


i     ^verof^-y 


\ 


*''*"^«Vsifp»tf""^ 


III. 
THE   COMING   OF   MENENDEZ. 

N  San  Pedro's  Day,  June  29th,  1565,  with  royal 
commission  and  Papal  blessing,  Menendez  set 
sail  from  Cadiz.  He  commanded  a  fleet  of  thirty- 
four  vessels  and  a  company  of  2,600  men,  knights  of  Bis- 
cay and  the  Asturias,  soldiers,  seamen,  Franciscans, 
Jesuits  and  negro  slaves. 

In  mid-ocean  the  ships  were  overtaken  and  scattered 
by  a  furious  tempest;  but  the  expedition,  bent  on  a  holy 
mission,  was  under  divine  protection.  So  reasoned  Men- 
endez, and  his  courage  did  not  falter.  Again  and  again 
during  the  voyage,  signal  manifestations  of  the  heavenly 
approval  were  granted  them.  Once,  overcome  by  terror  in 
the  storm,  the  pilots  lost  their  reckoning  and  knew  not 
which  way  to  steer,  but  divine  guidance  led  them  to  their 
course  again.  When  they  were  becalmed,  writes  Fran- 
cisco Lopez  de  Mendoza  Grajales,  chaplain  of  the  expe- 
dition, God  in  answer  to  their  prayers  sent  them  speedy 
winds  again;  and  Providence  ordained  that  they  should 
come  to  dangerous  shoals  in  the  daytime,  that  so  being 
aware  of  their  peril  they  might  pass  in  safety.    Again,  in 


The  Coming  of  Menendez.  21 

the  Bahama  Channel  the  Admiral's  galleon,  the  San 
Falayo,  struck  upon  a  reef,  the  waters  rushed  into  the 
hold,  the  sailors  gave  themselves  up  for  lost,  and  the  ship 
must  surely  have  perished,  had  not  the  Holy  Mother  in 
quick  response  to  their  supplications  sent  two  heavy 
waves,  which  lifted  the  San  Falayo  and  bore  her  safely 
off  into  deep  water  again.  Yet  once  more  came  a  token 
from  above.  The  fleet  lay  idly  drifting  on  a  glassy  sea, 
the  captains  grew  disheartened  and  the  crews  began  loudly 
to  murmur,  when,  writes  Mendoza,  "God  showed  us  a 
miracle  from  on  high;"  for  in  the  night  a  great  meteor 
blazed  out  in  mid-heaven,  and  sweeping  on  before  them, 
its  brightness  lasting  while  one  might  repeat  two  Credos^ 
sank  toward  the  west,  where  lay  the  land  of  Florida. 

Thus  borne  on  by  heaven-sent  winds  and  led  by  celes- 
tial lights,  at  length,  on  the  29th  of  August,  the  day  in 
the  Spanish  calendar  sacred  to  San  Augustin,  the  Span- 
iards came  in  sight  of  the  coast;  and  at  the  first  welcome 
glimpse  of  land,  soldiers  and  sailors,  led  by  the  priests, 
chanted  together  a  Te  Deum  of  praise  and  thanksgiving. 

But  if  the  crews  rejoiced,  how  much  greater  must  have 
been  the  satisfaction  of  their  commander,  when  from  the 
high  deck  of  the  San  Falayo  he  first  beheld  the  shadowy 
outline  of  his  kingdom;  and  how  must  his  heart  have 
swelled  with  anticipation  as  fancy  painted  the  glorious 
conquests  in  store  for  him.  Here  at  last  is  Terra  Florida^ 
the  Florida  of  the  sixteenth  century,  which  means  the 
whole  vast  continent  from  Mexico  to  the  boundless  north, 
and  from  the  Atlantic  westward  to  the  back  of  the  world 
— who  knows  just  where?  Before  him  lies  the  empire 
which  he  is  to  claim  as  his  own,  for  of  Florida  (so  reads 


22  Old  St.  Augustine, 

the  royal  commission)  he  is  to  be  Adelantado  for  life. 
Here,  in  this  magnificent  theatre  of  the  New  World,  will  he 
achieve  a  conquest  that  shall  outshine  the  most  glorious 
exploits  of  the  Conquistadors,  and  forever  join  his  name 
with  theirs.  As  Vasco  Nufiez  de  Balboa,  advancing 
into  the  waters  of  the  Great  South  Sea,  made  valiant 
boast,  swearing  on  his  sword,  to  hold  against  all  comers 
that  mighty  ocean  for  his  sovereign  Don  Ferdinand, 
so  will  he,  Pedro  Menendez  d'Avil^s,  undertake  to  de- 
fend against  the  world  this  unexplored  and  illimitable 
continent  for  his  Most  Catholic  Majesty  Don  Philip  II. 
As  Francisco  Pizarro  has  made  his  name  immortal  by 
wresting  the  plates  of  gold  from  the  Temple  of  the  Sun, 
and  rifling  the  treasure  from  the  tombs  of  the  Incas,  in 
the  great  and  holy  city  of  Cuzco  with  its  hundred  thou- 
sand houses,  so  will  he,  Pedro  Menendez,  sack  the  wealth 
of  Chigoula,  the  wonderful  city  hidden  somewhere  here 
in  Florida,  "whose  inhabitants  [ran  the  story  of  Indian 
captives  taken  to  Spain]  make  none  account  of  gold  and 
silver  and  pearls,  seeing  they  have  thereof  in  abundance." 
As  Hernando  Cortez  has  sent  the  fleets  back  to  Spain 
laden  with  bars  of  precious  metals  from  the  mines  of  the 
Montezumas,  so  now  will  he  dispatch  the  galleons  from 
Florida,  and  send  them  home  freighted  with  treasure 
untold  from  the  crystal  mountains  of  Apalatcy,  those 
wondrous  peaks,  whose  summits  "shine  so  bright  in  the 
day  that  they  cannot  behold  them  and  so  travel  unto  them 
by  night."  Nay,  besides  the  rivers  of  golden  sands,  the 
stores  of  "Christal,  golde  and  Rubies  and  Diamonds,"  the 
mines  and  the  pearl  fisheries,  and  cities  and  mountains  of 
wealth,  beyond  these  and  more  wonderful  than  them  all. 


The   Coming  of  Menendez.  23 

Is  the  magic  fountain  into  whose  waters  he,  Pedro  Menen- 
dez,  may  yet  plunge  and — why  not? — Hve  forever,  Adelan- 
tado  of  a  continent.  Such  is  the  magnificent  dream  that 
rises  before  the  Admiral  of  the  Spanish  fleet  as  the  ships 
draw  near  the  Florida  coast.  But  first  and  now,  the 
darker  mission;  before  the  search  for  fame  and  treasure, 
the  hunt  for  the  heretics. 

The  fleet  sailed  north  along  the  coast,  and  not  long 
after,  late  one  afternoon,  the  Spanish  lookout  descried  the 
French  ships  lying  at  anchor  off  the  River  of  May.  At 
eleven  o'clock  that  night,  Tuesday,  September  4th,  the 
San  Falayo  and  her  consorts  came  to  anchor  within  hail 
of  Ribault's  flagship,  the  Trinity.  The  Spaniards  worked 
noiselessly  and  the  French  looked  on  without  speaking. 
"Such  a  silence,"  says  Mendoza,  "I  never  knew  since  I 
came  into  the  world."  At  last  a  trumpet  sounded  from 
the  deck  of  the  San  Falayo,  From  the  Trinity  came  an 
answering  salute.  Then  with  much  courtesy  Menendez 
inquired,  "Gentlemen,  whence  comes  this  fleet?" 

"From  France,"  was  the  response. 

"What  is  it  doing  here?" 

"Bringing  infantry,  artillery  and  supplies  for  a  fort  which 
the  King  of  France  has  in  this  country,  and  for  many 
more  which  he  will  build." 

"And  you,  are  you  Catholics  or  Lutherans?" 

Many  of  the  French  at  once  cried  out,  "We  are  Luth- 
erans, of  the  New  Religion."  Then  they  asked  who  he 
was  and  whence  he  came.  Through  the  gloom  they 
heard  the  answer: 

"Pedro  Menendez  is  he  whom  you  question,  the 
Admiral  of  these  ships,  the  fleet  of  the  King  of  Spain, 


24  Old  St,  Augustine. 

Don  Philip  II.,  which  comes  to  this  country  to  fall  upon 
and  behead  all  Lutherans  who  are  upon  its  shores,  and 
those  who  are  on  the  seas.  The  instructions  I  hold  from 
my  King,  and  which  are  so  explicit  that  they  leave  me 
no  latitude  nor  authority  to  pardon  you,  I  shall  execute 
in  full.  Immediately  after  the  break  of  day,  I  shall  board 
your  ships.  If  I  find  there  any  Catholics  they  shall  be 
spared;  but  all  who  are  heretics  shall  die." 

Here  the  French  interrupted  him  and  with  jeers  and 
derisive  taunts  called  out  to  him  not  to  wait  until  the 
morning  but  to  board  their  ships  at  once;  whereupon  the 
Spanish  Admiral,  provoked  to  great  fury,  gave  the  com- 
mand to  arms,  ordered  the  cables  cut  and  in  his  wrath 
sprung  down  to  the  deck  to  hasten  with  his  own  hands 
the  execution  of  the  order.  With  all  expedition  the  San 
Palayo  bore  down  on  the  Trinity^  but  the  Frenchmen  too 
had  cut  their  cables,  and  putting  straight  out  to  sea  soon 
eluded  their  pursuers.  **These  crazy  devils  are  such  good 
sailors,"  records  Mendoza,  ''and  manceuvered  so  well  that 
we  could  not  capture  a  single  one  of  them."  At  break  of 
day  the  Spaniards  gave  over  the  chase  and  returned  to 
the  River  of  May.  Here  they  found  the  French  from 
Fort  Caroline  drawn  up  on  the  shore  to  receive  them;  and 
not  risking  an  attack  they  sailed  to  the  southward. 

That  night,  it  being  the  eve  of  the  nativity  of  Our  Lady 
of  September,  the  larger  ships  of  the  Spanish  fleet  lay  off 
the  bar  of  the  River  of  Dolphins;  and  the  smaller  ones, 
entering  the  harbor,  came  to  anchor  before  the  village  of 
Seloy. 


©1, 


IV. 
FOUNDING    A    CITY. 


ATURDAY,  September  8th,  witnessed  a  mem- 
orable scene  at  the  River  of  Dolphins.  In  the 
morning,  the  first  beams  of  the  sun,  rising  from 
the  sea,  shone  upon  the  antlered  front  of  the  consecrated 
stag,  in  the  heathen  village  of  Seloy;  at  night  its  last  rays 
from  the  pine  forests  of  the  west  illumined  a  cross,  stand- 
ing amid  the  sentried  fortifications  of  the  Christian  town 
of  San  Augustin. 

Long  before  dawn,  the  crews  had  begun  the  labor  of 
disembarking.  The  seamen  landed  artillery  and  stores; 
the  infantry  took  possession  of  the  great  council  house 
of  Seloy;  the  negro  slaves  fell  to  the  task  of  throwing  up 
earthworks  about  it;  and  the  priests  having  set  up  a 
cross,  erected  an  altar  and  provided  the  sacred  utensils  of 
the  mass. 

At  noon,  clad  in  the  uniform  of  his  knightly  order, 
hose  and  doublet,  slashed  sleeves,  and  the  cross  of  Sant- 
iago on  the  breast,  burnished  casque  and  waving  plume, 
Menendez  left  the  San  Falayoj  and  amid  fanfare  of  trum- 
pet, roll  of  drum  and  salvos  of  artillery  was  rowed  in 


26  Old  St.  Augustine. 

state  to  the  shore.  Arrived  there,  a  procession  was 
formed.  At  the  head  walked  chaplain  Mendoza,  bear- 
ing aloft  the  crucifix.  Then  came  Menendez,  drawn 
sword  in  one  hand  and  royal  commission  in  the  other. 
After  him  marched  the  priests,  and  behind  them,  their 
armor  glistening  in  the  sunlight,  followed  the  companies 
of  infantry.  Over  them  flaunted  the  great  yellow  banner 
of  Spain.  Chanting  they  marched  to  the  majestic  meas- 
ures of  the  Te  Deum  Laudamus,  When  they  reached  the 
altar,  Menendez  knelt  and  reverently  kissed  the  crucifix; 
and  the  others  followed  his  example.  Then  all  gathered 
about  the  altar  for  the  solemn  ceremonies  of  the  mass. 

It  was  a  motley  throng — the  priests  robed  in  the  stole 
and  chasuble  of  their  sacred  office,  the  warriors  clad  in 
suits  of  mail,  the  naked  negroes  toiling  in  the  trenches; 
and  pressing  in  a  circle  without,  the  bewildered  Indians, 
mute  in  their  wonder  and  vaguely  imitating  the  mysteri- 
ous actions  of  the  strangers.  It  was  a  group  in  which 
were  many  contrasts  most  sharply  defined.  Here  stood 
the  Spanish  Adelantado,  representative  of  the  proudest 
nation  upon  the  globe,  now  come  hither  to  subdue  a  con- 
tinent; and  a  little  apart  from  him  was  the  Indian  Para- 
coussy,  whose  petty  reign  should  from  that  hour  cease. 
Here  crowded  the  conquistadors,  eager  for  spoils;  and 
there  bent  the  negro  toilers,  precursors  of  the  tens  of 
thousands  of  their  unhappy  race  who  should  follow  them 
to  slavery  in  America.  Contrast  most  strange  of  all — 
this  celebration  of  Christian  rites,  while  the  heathen  deer 
high  on  his  staif  stolidly  faced  the  east. 

The  mass  being  ended,  Menendez  took  formal  posses- 
sion of  Florida  in  the  name  of  Philip  II.,  and  in  honor 


Founding  a    City.  27 

of  the  saint  upon  whose  day  the  fleet  had  sighted  the 
Florida  coast,  he  named  the  new  town  San  Augustin. 
Then  having  read  aloud  his  commission,  he  took  from 
officers  and  men  a  renewal  of  their  oaths  of  allegiance, 
and  was  saluted  by  all  present  as  Adelantado  of  Florida. 
Soldiers  and  sailors  sent  up  a  cheer;  the  artillery  shook 
the  earth  with  a  salute;  the  ships  in  the  bay  responded 
with  their  thunder;  and  booming  over  the  water  came 
the  answering  echoes  from  the  great  guns  of  the  San 
Palayo  far  out  beyond  the  bar. 

So  passed  the  natal  day  of  San  Augustin,  the  new 
Christian  town  planted  on  the  site  of  the  pagan  Indian 
village.  The  sun  sank  behind  the  rim  of  pines  in  the 
west;  the  glory  of  gold  and  crimson  and  purple  faded 
out  from  sky  and  sea;  the  birds  hushed  their  songs;  the 
gloom  of  night  drew  on  apace;  and  from  the  sea  came 
the  monody  of  the  surf  rolling  in  on  the  shore. 

The  sunlight  has  faded  from  our  story.  There  is  no 
more  of  glitter.  The  pageantry  is  over.  The  ceremo- 
nies of  the  town's  establishment  are  not  yet  completed. 
Other  rites  are  to  follow,  but  they  will  be  sombre 
and  pitiless.  The  ancient  Picts  bathed  the  foundation- 
stones  in  human  blood,  that  their  structures  might  long 
endure.  Some  such  terrible  baptism  must  be  provided  for 
San  Augustin,  if  this  planting  of  Spanish  dominion  in 
North  America  is  to  be  made  more  secure  than  the  futile 
attempts  of  other  Spaniards  here  in  Florida.  Victims  for 
the  human  sacrifice  are  not  wanting.  Yonder  at  Fort 
Caroline  are  the  heretics,  Lutherans,  apostate  followers 
of  a  renegade  German  monk,  and  trespassers  on  this 
domain  of  the  Spanish  monarch,  who  for  the  honor  of 


28 


Old  St,  Augustine. 


Adelantado,  Church  and  King,  must  be  rooted  out  with 
fire  and  the  sword.  So  reasons  the  Spaniard;  and  Pedro 
Menendez  will  not  fail  to  put  into  execution  what  his 
cruel  heart  contemplates,  for  his  soul  is  full  to  the  brim 
of  fiercest  hate,  and  his  arm  is  nerved  by  the  most 
powerful  of  all  motives  in  this  year  of  grace,  1565,  the 
unreasoning  determination  of  a  religious  bigot. 


V. 

FORT   CAROLINE. 

jONDAY,  September  lo,  as  Menendez  was  re- 
turning from  the  Sa7i  Falayo,  which  was  to  sail 
that  night  for  Spain,  the  breeze  died  out  with 
the  sunset,  and  the  Adelantado  lay  all  night  becalmed  off 
the  bar  of  San  Augustin.  In  the  dim  gray  of  the  coming 
dawn,  his  shallop  still  at  anchor,  Menendez  and  his  com- 
panions were  terrified  by  the  apparition  of  the  Trinity 
driftmg  down  upon  them  with  the  tide.  Not  a  breath  of 
air  was  stirring;  no  human  agency  could  save  them; 
destruction  was  imminent.  In  their  extremity  the  trem- 
bling crew  fell  upon  the  deck  in  supplication  of  Our  Lady 
of  Utrera.  Behold  a  miracle!  "Straightway,"  writes  Men- 
doza,  "one  would  say  that  Our  Lady  herself  came  down 
upon  the  ship.'*  A  sudden  flaw  of  wind  struck  the  idle 
sail,  and  lifting  the  shallop  bore  it  on  the  crest  of  a  wave 
over  the  bar.  There  it  was  safe,  for  the  French  ships 
could  not  follow.  They  waited  outside  for  the  rising  of 
the  tide. 

Ribault  was  in  command  of  the  French  fleet,  and  with 
him  was  the  entire  fighting  contingent  from  Fort  Caroline. 


30  Old  St.  Augustine. 

They  had  come  for  an  attack,  before  the  Spaniards  had 
intrenched  themselves.  The  Adelantado  was  ill  prepared 
for  this  unexpected  coming  of  the  enemy,  but  his  couraije 
was  not  shaken.  The  enterprise,  undertaken  for  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  Church,  was  not  thus  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Arch-Demon.  Again  the  Spaniards  prayed. 
Behold  another  miracle!  The  very  elements  of  heaven 
were  marshalled  to  their  deliverance.  On  a  sudden,  while 
the  sky  was  yet  clear,  the  sun  shining  bright  and  the  sea 
calm,  out  of  the  northeast  came  a  blast  of  wind.  It 
sprung  at  once  to  a  gale,  increased  in  fury  and  gathered 
the  might  of  a  hurricane.  Such  a  tempest,  the  Indians 
said,  had  never  been  known  on  the  coast  before.  The 
rain  beat  down  in  blinding  floods.  The  sea  was  lashed 
to  fury.  The  French  ships  struggled  and  labored  in  the 
storm,  striving  in  vain  to  gain  an  offing;  the  waves 
rising  to  the  maintopmasts  threatened  to  engulf  them. 
Finally  the  Spaniards  saw  them  driving  helplessly  to  the 
southward.  Then  they  disappeared  in  the  gloom  of  the 
storm.  In  such  a  sea,  on  the  Florida  coast,  the  heretics 
must  perish.  The  Spaniards  were  saved.  Thus  had 
Providence  interposed  once  aga^n  to  avert  their  destruc- 
tion; "so,'Vrites  the  pious  Mendoza,  "God  and  the  Holy 
Virgin  have  performed  another  great  miracle  in  our 
behalf;"  and  soldiers  and  priests  joined  in  a  service  of 
thanksgiving. 

Heaven  had  destroyed  the  ships.  Now  to  fall  upon 
the  rest  of  the  French  at  Fort  Caroline.  A  mass  was 
said.  Menendez  selected  500  arquebusiers  and  pikemen, 
gave  the  command  to  march,  and  himself  led  the  way. 
For  four  days,  led  by  Indian  guides,  they  threaded  the 


'  'U 


Fort  Caroline.  31 

mazes  of  the  pines,  waded  the  swamps  and  hewed  their 
way  through  scrub  and  hamak.  Day  after  day,  night 
after  night,  the  never-ceasing  floods  of  rain  poured  down 
upon  them.  At  10  o'clock  of  the  fourth  night,  drenched, 
bruised,  exhausted  with  fatigue  and  privation,  they 
reached  the  River  of  May,  and  on  a  bluff  overlooking  Fort 
Caroline  threw  themselves  down  to  await  the  dawn. 

How  was  it  within  the  fort?  Ribault  had  left  no 
defenders.  Laudonniere  lay  in  bed  sick  with  a  fever. 
The  garrison  was  a  beggarly  assemblage  of  incapables. 
There  were  Challeux  the  carpenter,  old  and  helpless;  Le 
Moyne  the  artist,  who  could  wield  a  pencil  but  not  a  pike; 
the  boys  who  kept  Ribault's  dogs;  and  lackeys,  women 
and  children.  The  pitiful  few  who  could  bear  arms  at  all 
were  worn  out  by  their  protracted  guard  duty  during  the 
four  days  and  nights  of  continuous  tempest.  Through 
the  weary  hours  of  this  night,  as  before,  the  tired  sentinels 
paced  the  ramparts  in  the  stonn;  but,  "when  the  day 
was  therefore  come,"  says  the  chronicle,  "and  the  captain 
of  the  guard  saw  that  it  rained  worse  than  it  did  before, 
he  pitied  the  sentinels  all  too  moyled  and  wet,  and  think- 
ing that  the  Spaniards  would  not  have  come  in  such  a 
strange  time,  he  let  them  depart  and  went  to  his  lodging." 
Little  did  he  know  the  determined  will  of  the  Adelantado, 
Don  Pedro  Menendez  d'Avilds;  little  did  he  dream  that  at 
the  very  moment  his  compassion  sent  the  exhausted  sen- 
tinels to  their  quarters,  500  pikemen  were  concealed 
among  the  pines  on  the  bluff,  within  trumpet  call,  waiting 
like  savage  beasts  to  spring  upon  their  prey. 

Morning  came,  the  morning  of  San  Mateo's  Day.  Men- 
endez had  spent  the  night  in  vigils  and  prayer.    With  the 


32  Old  St,  Augustine. 

first  streak  of  light  he  marshalled  his  command.  The 
signal  was  given  for  the  attack.  Breaking  into  a  run  and 
raising  their  battle  cry,  Santiago!  the  Spaniards  rushed 
upon  the  fort. 

"Victory!  God  is  with  us!"  shouted  Menendez.  "Upon 
them!" 

Laudonnifere's  trumpeter  first  saw  the  Spaniards;  and 
gave  the  alarm.  Too  late.  In  through  the  postern  of  the 
gate  poured  the  Spaniards.  Out  of  bed  leaped  the 
French.  Undressed,  unarmed,  out  they  came,  old  and 
young,  well  and  sick,  men,  women  and  children,  dazed, 
bewildered,  panic-stricken,  pell-mell,  headlong  on  to  the 
Spanish  pikes.  Back  through  the  tents  and  barracks  they 
fled  again.  Close  upon  them  followed  the  furious  Span- 
iards. Some  of  the  French  in  terror  threw  themselves 
over  the  walls  and  escaped.  Some  were  spared — to  be 
hung,  if  we  credit  the  French  account;  to  be  given  over 
to  the  Inquisition,  if  we  accept  the  Spanish  version.  The 
rest  were  cut  down,  stabbed,  butchered.  The  assault 
was  not  more  impetuous  than  the  end  swift.  A  trumpet 
sounded  the  victory.  The  standard  of  Spain  floated  over 
Fort  Caroline. 

Among  those  who  escaped  were  Le  Moyne,  Challeux 
and  Laudonni^re.  The  fugitives  made  their  way  toward 
the  mouth  of  the  River  of  May,  where  lay  two  small  ships, 
left  by  Ribault.  In  the  marsh,  the  water  up  to  his  chin, 
Laudonni^re  stood  all  night  long,  praying  aloud.  There 
in  the  morning  a  boat's  crew  found  him  helpless,  without 
strength  to  move  even  a  finger;  and  lifting  him  in, 
they  bore  him  to  the  ships.  After  much  disaster  and 
suffering,  surviving  hunger,  thirst  and  shipwreck,  the 


Fort  Caroline.  33 

refugees  reached  France.  Each  of  the  three  named  sub- 
sequently published  accounts  of  their  Florida  misfortunes; 
and  Le  Moyne  prepared  from  memory  a  series  of  illus- 
trations of  the  French  expedition  in  Florida. 

Menendez  made  thorough  work  at  Fort  Caroline.  In 
Laudonniere's  quarters  were  discovered  certain  gilt-b:und 
books,  out  of  which  the  heretic  X,utheran  priests  were  ac- 
customed to  preach  their  impious  doctrines;  and  these 
accursed  volumes  were  at  once  consigned  to  the  flames. 
If  we  accept  the  statement  of  chaplain  Mendoza,  a  great 
Lutheran  cosmographer  and  magician  was  found  among 
the  dead.  The  names  of  fort  and  river  were  changed  to 
San  Mateo,  in  honor  of  the  Saint  upon  whose  day  this 
great  triumph  had  been  achieved.  Having  thus  perfected 
the  work  of  blotting  out  the  heretics,  and  leaving  in  Fort 
San  Mateo  a  garrison  of  300  men,  the  Adelantado  set  out 
on  his  return  to  San  Augustin.  A  messenger  was  sent  on 
ahead  to  announce  the  joyful  tidings;  and  the  priests 
v/ent  out  to  meet  the  victors.  A  triumphal  procession 
was  formed,  Mendoza,  in  new  cassock  and  surplice,  bear- 
ing the  crucifix  at  its  head ;  and  chanting  the  Te  Deuniy 
the  victorious  band  entered  San  Augustin  at  the  vesper 
hour. 

The  mass  of  thanksgiving  for  the  signal  victory  over 

the  Arch-Demon  was  hardly  finished,  when   Menendez 

was  called  to  go  forth  on  a  mission  yet  darker  than  that 

of  Fort  Caroline. 
3 


VI 
MATANZA. 

HE  river,  or  sound,  named  by  the  French  the 
River  of  Dolphins  and  by  the  Spaniards  San 
Augustin,  runs  parallel  with  the  ocean,  from 
which  it  is  separated  by  a  narrow  strip  of  land,  to  a  point 
thirteen  miles  south,  where  by  another  inlet  it  is  again 
connected  with  th'='  sea.  To  follow  the  beach,  coming 
from  the  south,  one  must  cross  this  lower  inlet,  and  pro- 
ceed along  the  shore  of  the  island  formed  by  river  and 
sea. 

On  the  day  following  his  return  from  Fort  Caroline, 
while  Menendez,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  was  taking  his 
siesta y  an  Indian  runner  brought  word  that  a  company  of 
men  had  been  discovered  on  the  beach  at  the  lower  inlet, 
which  they  could  not  cross.  The  Adelantado  awoke  to 
immediate  action.  At  the  head  of  a  chosen  band  of  fifty 
picked  soldiers,  he  left  San  Augustin  at  dusk,  crossed 
over  to  the  island,  marched  south  along  the  coast,  and 
reached  the  northern  shore  of  the  inlet  before  dawn. 
From  his  lookout  in  a  tree,  with  the  first  faint  light  of 
San  Miguel's  Day,  Menendez  descried  the  company  on 


Matanza, 


35 


the  southern   shore.     Their  number  was  large;  and  he 
well  knew  who  they  were. 

When   day  had  fully  come,  the   Spanish   commander 


manceuvered  his  men  among  the  sand  hills,  so  that  to 
those  on  the  other  side  his  force  of  fifty  might  appear  to 
be  many  more.  After  these  demonstrations  he  patiently 
waited.     One  of  the  strangers  plunged  into  the  water 


36  Old  St,  Augustine. 

from  the  opposite  shore  and  swam  across  the  inlet.  He 
was  a  Frenchman.  His  companions,  he  said,  had  been 
shipwrecked.  The  conversation  that  followed  recalls  the 
parley  between  the  Sa7t  Palayo  and  the  Trinity  at  the 
River  of  May. 

*What  Frenchmen  are  they?"  asked  the  Adelantado. 

"Two  hundred  of  the  command  of  Jean  Ribault,  Ad- 
miral and  Captain-General  of  this  country  for  the  King  of 
France,"  was  the  reply. 

"Catholics  or  Lutherans  ?" 

"All  Lutherans  of  the  New  Religion.'*  His  captain, 
he  added,  had  sent  him  over  to  ask  who  they  were. 

"Tell  him,  then,"  was  the  ominous  reply,  "that  it  is  the 
Viceroy  and  Adelantado  of  this  land  for  the  King  Don 
Philip;  and  that  his  name  is  Pedro  Menendez." 

The  Frenchman  swam  back  to  his  comrades.  By  and 
by  he  came  again  and  said  that  his  captain  wished  to  treat 
with  the  Spaniards.  Menendez  sent  them  a  canoe.  The 
captain  and  ten  others  came  over.  They  begged  Menen- 
dez to  furnish  them  boats,  in  which  they  might  proceed 
to  a  fort,  which  they  had  to  the  north. 

"Are  you  Catholics  or  Lutherans  ?"  asked  Menendez. 

"We  are  all  of  the  New  Religion." 

Then  said  the  Adelantado  :  "Gentlemen,  your  fort 
is  taken  and  its  garrison  destroyed;"  and  he  showed 
them  some  of  the  spoils  from  Fort  Caroline  and  two  of 
its  garrison,  who  having  declared  themselves  Catholics 
had  been  spared  alive. 

Then  the  French  captain  asked  for  ships  to  take  his 
company  to  France.  The  Spaniard  replied  that  he  had 
no  ships  for  such  a  purpose.     France  and  Spain  were  not 


Matanza.  37 

at  war,  urged  the  Frenchman;  their  Kings  were  friends 
and  brothers;  would  the  Adelantado  not  graciously  per- 
mit these  shipwrecked  men  to  remain  at  his  fort,  until 
they  could  obtain  passage  to  France.  If  Catholics  and 
friends,  replied  the  Spaniard,  yes;  but  since  they  were  of 
the  New  Sect,  he  could  regard  them  only  as  enemies. 
He  should  wage  war  upon  them  even  to  blood  and  fire, 
and  should  pursue  them  with  all  cruelty,  wherever  he 
might  encounter  them  in  this  land,  to  which  he  had  come 
to  plant  the  Holy  Faith  for  the  salvation  of  the  Indians. 
If  they  were  willing  to  surrender  their  standards,  give  up 
their  arms,  and  submit  themselves  to  his  mercy,  well  and 
good;  "he  should  do  with  them  as  God  might  give  him 
grace." 

The  French  captain  went  back  and  consulted  with  his 
men.  He  came  again,  this  time  with  another  plea. 
Many  of  his  comrades  were  noblemen  of  high  birth;  they 
offered  a  ransom  of  50,000  ducats  for  their  lives.  No, 
the  Spaniard  replied,  although  a  poor  man,  he  was  not 
mercenary;  and  if  in  the  end  he  should  treat  them  with 
leniency,  he  would  wish  to  be  free  from  suspicion  of  a 
sordid  motive  for  doing  so.  Again  the  Frenchman 
came  over,  with  the  proffer  of  a  still  larger  ransom.  "Do 
not  deceive  yourselves,"  answered  Menendez;  "though 
heaven  should  come  down  to  earth,  I  would  not  do  other 
than  I  have  said." 

The  parley  was  ended.  The  French  castaways,  ex- 
hausted by  their  long  buffetings  with  the  waves,  worn 
out  by  the  hard  march  through  the  wilderness,  bedrag- 
gled, famished  and  utterly  disheartened,  too  weak  to 
fight,  too  weak   to  retreat,  threw  themselves  upon  the 


38  Old  St.  Augustine. 

mercy  of  the  Spaniard,  and  committed  themselves  to  him, 
to  do  with  them  "as  God  should  give  him  grace." 

A  boat  was  sent  across  the  inlet,  and  returned  with  the 
standards  and  arms.  Then  it  brought  over  the  captain 
and  eight  of  his  men.  They  were  supplied  with  food 
and  drink  and  conducted  behind  the  sand  dunes  out  of 
the  sight  of  their  comrades  on  the  other  shore.  "Gen- 
tlemen," said  Menendez,  "my  men  are  few  and  you  are 
many;  it  would  be  easy  for  you  to  avenge  upon  us  the 
deaths  of  your  friends  at  the  fort.  You  must,  then, 
march  with  your  hands  bound  behind  you,  to  my  camp, 
four  leagues  hence."  To  this  they  assented.  The  sol- 
diers took  the  match-cords  from  their  arquebuses;  and 
the  arms  of  the  French  were  securely  bound  behind  their 
backs.  The  others  came  over  ten  at  a  time,  and  the  men 
of  each  company,  on  their  arrival,  were  bound  in  like 
manner.    In  all  there  were  two  hundred  and  eight  of  them. 

Then  the  chaplain,  Mendoza,  interposed.  It  was  the 
fmal  opportunity.  If  any  were  Catholics,  let  them  sig- 
nify it.  Eight  sailors  so  declared  themselves,  and  were 
placed  apart.  "We  are  all  of  the  New  Sect,"  said  the 
rest;  "this  is  our  faith;  we  have  no  other." 

The  sun  was  low  in  the  west.  There  was  need  of  expedi- 
tion in  the  terrible  work  now  to  be  done.  Menendez  gave 
the  command  to  march.  Divided  into  squads  of  ten,  their 
arms  tied  behind,  a  guard  in  front  of  them  and  another  in 
their  rear,  the  wretched  victims  were  driven  to  the  sham- 
bles. Leaving  his  secret  instructions  with  the  soldiers, 
Menendez  went  on  in  advance.  At  a  certain  point, 
before  determined,  he  drew  with  his  lance  a  mark  in  the 
sand.     When  the  first  band  of  ten  Frenchmen  came  to 


Matanza.  39 

this  mark,  the  vanguard  turned  upon  the  leading  rank  of 
prisoners  and  stabbed,  each  his  man;  and  the  rear  guard 
stabbed  from  behind,  each  his  victim,  those  in  the  second 
rank.  When  the  second  squad  of  ten  came  to  the  fatal 
mark  they  were  struck  down  in  the  same  way;  then  the 
third,  and  the  fourth,  and  those  that  came  after;  and  so 
the  horrible  matanza — the  well-planned,  systematic  butch- 
ery, where  each  one  struck  his  appointed  blow — was  con- 
tinued so  long  as  the  light  shone,  and  went  on,  after  the 
setting  of  the  sun,  into  the  night,  until  at  length  the  deed 
of  blackest  darkness  was  finished  in  darkness. 

When  the  last  heretic  had  been  stabbed  in  the  back, 
the  Spaniards  returned  a  second  time  in  triumph  to  San 
Augustin. 

And  here  this  dark  chapter  should  end ;  but  the  story 
is  not  yet  finished.  What  follows  is  a  repetition  almost  in 
detail  of  that  which  has  been  told.    Let  us  hasten  over  it. 

Upon  the  following  day  the  Indians  came  again  to  San 
Augustin.  Another  company  had  been  discovered  on 
the  beach  at  the  inlet.  With  150  men  the  tireless  Span- 
iard again  set  forth.  Another  night  march,  another  impa- 
tient waiting  for  the  dawn,  another  manoeuver  of  the 
troops;  and  again  a  messenger  swam  across  the  inlet. 
His  company,  he  said,  was  that  of  Admiral  Jean  Ribault; 
and  after  the  story  of  their  shipwreck,  came  the  request 
for  boats  to  take  them  to  Fort  Caroline.  Then  the 
Frenchman  inquired  whom  he  was  addressing.  *Tedro 
Menendez,"  was  the  answer;  and  the  messenger  was  sent 
back  with  the  news  of  the  capture  of  Fort  Caroline. 

A  canoe  having  been  sent  for  him,  Jean  Ribault  him- 


40  Old  St,  Augustine. 

self  came  over  with  eight  of  his  officers.  The  Spanish 
Adelantado  received  the  French  Admiral  with  punctilious 
courtesy,  and  set  a  collation  before  him.  Having  con- 
vinced Ribault  of  the  death  of  those  who  had  been  left 
at  Fort  Caroline,  Menendez  led  him  to  the  horrible  spot 
where  the  flocks  of  unclean  birds  were  gathered,  and 
showed  him  by  the  ghastly  evidence  there  what  fate  had 
overtaken  the  first  band  of  castaways  two  days  before. 

Again  came  the  ineffectual  plea  for  clemency.  What 
had  happened  to  himself,  said  Ribault,  might  have  be- 
fallen Menendez;  their  Kings  were  brothers  and  friends, 
so  as  a  friend  should  the  Adelantado  act  toward  him. 
Menendez  was  unmoved.  Then  the  French  offered  ran- 
som; and  it  was  refused.  The  interviews  concluded  as 
before;  the  Spaniard's  final  answer  was  that  "the  French 
might  surrender  themselves  to  his  mercy,  and  he  should 
do  with  them  as  God  might  direct.'* 

That  night  200  of  the  French  withdrew  and  marched 
south  into  the  wilderness;  any  fate,  even  to  be  devoured 
by  the  savages,  was  preferable  to  that  of  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Spaniard.*  The  next  morning  Menendez 
sent  a  boat  across  the  inlet,  and  Ribault  came  over,  bring- 
ing his  standards,  arms  and  commission;  and  surrendered 
them  to  Menendez.  The  Adelantado  conducted  him 
behind  a  sand  hill  and  repeated  the  treacherous  pretext 
he  had  used  before.  Night  was  approaching,  he  said; 
his  fort  was  distant;  they  had  far  to  go;  his  men  were 
few;  the  French  were  many;  they  must  be  bound.  The 
Admiral  submitted. 

*  They  subsequently  surrendered,  and  most  of  them  found  their  way  back  to 
France. 


Matanza,  41 

Once  more,  across  this  Stygian  flood,  the  ferry  boat  of 
death  with  Charon  at  the  oar  began  its  passing.  Back 
and  forth,  from  shore  to  shore,  it  fared,  bringing  the  vic- 
tims ten  at  a  time,  until  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  had 
been  ferried  over.  As  each  company  of  ten  arrived,  they 
were  conducted  behind  the  sand  hills;  and  their  arms 
were  pinioned.  ^'When  all  were. tied,"  writes  the  Spanish 
priest,  Don  Solis  las  Meras,  brother-in-law  of  Menendez, 
and  present  at  this  scene,  *^when  all  were  tied,  the  Adelan- 
tado  asked  if  they  were  Catholics  or  Lutherans,  or  if  any 
wished  to  make  confession.  Jean  Ribault  answered  that 
all  there  were  of  the  New  Religion;  and  then  he  began  to 
repeat  the  psalm  Domtne,  memento  met;  having  finished 
which,  he  said  that  from  dust  they  came  and  to  dust  they 
must  return  again;  and  that  in  twenty  years,  more  or 
less,  he  must  render  his  final  account;"  and  now  the  Ade- 
lantado  might  do  with  him  as  he  saw  fit.  This  man,  Jean 
Ribault,  who  spoke  thus,  we  may  be  sure,  walked  erect 
and  with  an  unflinching  step  to  his  fate. 

Four  who  declared  themselves  Catholics  were  placed 
on  one  side,  and  with  them  the  drummers  and  fifers,  one 
of  whom,  Nicolas  Burgoigne,  we  shall  hear  of  again. 
Then,  as  in  the  Florida  pines  to-day  one  may  see  the 
horsemen  forcing  the  cattle  into  the  slaughter  pens,  the 
Spaniards  drove  their  wretched  victims  on  to  their  doom. 
On  the  same  sandy  reach,  still  red  with  its  sanguinary 
dye,  Menendez  drew  for  this  new  band  of  martyrs  another 
mark  on  the  ground.  When  Ribault  and  his  comrades 
reached  this  fatal  bound,  the  horrible  scene  of  that  other 
day  was  re-enacted;  and  with  each  succeeding  band  the 
matanza  was  repeated;  the  butchers  struck  and  the  vie- 


42  Old  St.  Augustine, 

tims  fell.     And  when  all  had  been  slain,  the  Spaniards 
marched  on,  and  returned  once  more  in  triumph. 

Thus  at  the  founding  of  San  Augustin  was  thrice  pro- 
vided a  human  sacrifice,  and  a  libation  poured  out  so 
copious,  that  were  there  virtue  in  the  old  pagan  rites  the 
walls  of  this  Spanish  city  in  Florida  must  endure  for  all 
time. 


VII. 

FRENCH     VENGEANCE. 

HE  time  is  three  years  later.  The  scene  is 
changed  to  San  Mateo.  Enter,  for  the  last 
stormy  act  in  this  lurid  drama,  the  Chevalier 
Dominique  de  Gourgues,  French  Catholic,  soldier  of  for- 
tune, sometime  since  Spanish  galley  slave;  now  come  to 
repair  the  outraged  honor  of  his  native  land  and  to 
avenge  the  death  of  his  countrymen.  He  has  sold  his 
estates  that  he  may  fit  out  an  expedition,  has  gathered  a 
picked  company  of  soldiers  and  seamen,  and  sailed  out 
of  France  with  a  commission  to  kidnap  slaves  on  the 
coast  of  Africa.  Once  at  sea,  he  has  undeceived  his 
companions;  the  enterprise,  he  tells  them,  is  not  to  steal 
negroes;  it  is  a  mission  of  vengeance.  He  rehearses  the 
atrocious  cruelties  of  the  Spaniards,  with  the  terrible  fate 
of  the  Huguenots  in  Florida,  and  details  his  scheme  of 
retaliation — will  they  follow  him.^  The  answer  is  a 
cheer. 

When  the  three  ships  come  in  sight  of  the  forts  at  San 
Augustin  and  San  Mateo,  the  Spaniards,  taking  them  for 
friends,  fire  salutes  of  welcome.   The  Frenchman  responds, 


44  Old  St.  Augustine. 

and  sails  on.  Entering  a  river  beyond,  he  finds  the  banks 
lined  with  a  hostile  array  of  Indians,  drawn  up  under  the 
Paracoussy  Satourioua,  and  prepared  for  battle.  A  trum- 
peter, one  of  the  fugitives  who  had  escaped  from  Fort  Caro- 
line, is  sent  ashore.  The  Indians  recognize  him.  The 
ships,  they  learn,  are  French,  not  Spanish.  The  trumpeter's 
message  is  heard  with  joy;  and  immediately  savage  hos- 
tility is  changed  to  eager  welcome.  Later,  when  De 
Gourgues  comes  ashore  and  begins  to  declare  his  purpose 
of  revenge,  Satourioua  impatiently  interrupts  him  with 
the  story  of  the  wrongs  which  his  own  people  have  en- 
dured at  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards.  Well  have  the 
Paracoussy  and  his  tribe  kept  the  pledge  made  to  Lau- 
donni^re  that  his  friends  should  be  their  friends  and  h's 
enemies  their  enemies;  and  many  an  incautious  Spaniard 
at  San  Mateo  and  San  Augustin  has  been  ambushed  and 
slain  by  the  unseen  Indian  foe. 

The  French  landed  their  equipments,  and  made  prepara- 
tions for  attacking  the  forts;  and  meanwhile  their  savage 
allies  performed  the  ceremonies  which  were  always  observed 
before  the  Florida  Indian  went  into  battle.  The  black 
drink  was  mixed;  and  nothing  would  do  but  that  De 
Gourgues  must  quaff  a  heroic  draught.  The  painted 
sorcerer  with  painful  contortions  and  grimaces  of  suffer- 
ing fell  into  his  mystic  trance,  and  from  the  vision  brought 
information  of  the  strength  and  disposition  of  the  enemy. 
The  chiefs,  decked  out  in  totems  and  forbidding  in  war 
paint,  gathered  in  a  circle,  squatting  on  the  ground;  and 
in  the  center  uprose  Satourioua.  On  his  right  stood  a 
vessel  of  water,  on  his  left  burned  a  fire.  Taking  a  shal- 
low dishful  of  the  water  in  his  right  hand  and  holding  it 


Fre7ich  Vengemice.  45 

aloft  toward  the  sun,  the  chief  prayed  to  that  luminary 
that  a  victory  might  be  granted  them  over  the  Spaniards; 
and  dashing  the  water  to  the  ground,  implored  that  so 
might  the  blood  of  the  enemy  be  poured  out.  Then  lift- 
ing up  the  great  vessel  of  water  he  emptied  it  out  upon 
the  fire,  exclaiming,  ^'So  also  may  you  extinguish  the  lives 
of  your  foes.'*  And  all  the  rest  responded  with  shouts  and 
cries  of  hate  and  rage. 

Again  De  Gourgues  inflamed  the  hearts  of  his  follow- 
ers by  a  fresh  recital  of  the  wrongs  they  had  come  te 
avenge;  and  then  Frenchmen  and  Indians  took  up  their 
march. 

The  Spaniards,  four  hundred  strong,  were  intrenched 
in  two  small  forts  near  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  de  San  Mateo 
and  in  Fort  San  Mateo  (formerly  Fort  Caroline),  which 
had  been  so  strengthened  and  equipped  that  the  Span- 
iards boasted  the  half  of  France  could  not  take  it.  The 
avengers  sought  first  the  smaller  forts.  Making  their  way 
as  best  they  could  through  the  swamps,  across  the  treach- 
erous ooze  of  marshes  and  over  the  cruel  oyster  beds  con- 
cealed beneath  the  water,  from  which  they  emerged  with 
lacerated  feet  and  bleeding  limbs,  they  came  at  length  to 
the  first  fort  and  prepared  for  the  attack. 

"To  arms  !  The  French  !"  cried  a  sentinel;  and  from 
the  fort,  upon  the  advancing  column,  came  a  cannon  ball 
from  the  muzzle  of  one  of  Laudonni^re's  own  cannon.  At 
this,  Olotacara,  an  impetuous  savage,  bounded  from  his 
place  in  the  ranks,  leaped  upon  the  platform,  scaled  the 
rampart  and  ran  the  gunner  through  with  his  pike. 
French  and  Indians  followed  with  a  rush.  It  was  soon 
over.      The    fort   was    taken.      By    command    of    De 


46  Old  St,  Augustine, 

Gourgues  fifteen  of  the  Spaniards  were  reserved;  of  the 
rest  not  one  escaped. 

Panic-stricken  at  the  capture  of  the  first  fort,  the  garri- 
son of  the  other  one,  across  the  river,  rushed  out  for 
flight  into  the  forest.  Hemmed  in  by  the  infuriated  sav- 
ages on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  by  the  French,  there  was 
no  escape.  As  before,  fifteen  were  reserved ;  and  of  the 
others,  the  historian  of  the  expedition  records,  "all  there 
ended  their  days.*' 

Then  on  to  Fort  San  Mateo.  Here  the  garrison,  hav- 
ing been  alarmed,  were  in  readiness  for  them;  and  "no 
sluggards  of  their  cannon  shot,'*  played  their  ordnance 
upon  the  French  so  incontinently  that  their  courage 
failed;  and  retreating  to  the  shelter  of  the  woods,  they 
took  up  their  position  on  that  very  bluff  where  three  years 
before  Menendez  had  concealed  his  pikemen.  Here, 
since  it  was  late  in  the  day,  De  Gourgues  would  have 
waited,  deferring  the  assault  until  the  morrow.  But 
the  Spanish  commandant,  who  must  needs  hasten  his  own 
swift  destruction,  gave  the  word  for  threescore  shot  to 
sally  out  from  the  fort  to  discover  the  number  and  valor 
of  the  enemy.  The  Spaniards  falling  thus  into  a  trap  of 
their  own  making,  De  Gourgues  hemmed  them  in  before 
and  behind,  and  hewed  them  down — all  save  the  fifteen 
reserved  with  ominous  purpose.  Seeing  this,  the  rest  of 
the  garrison  in  terror  fled  from  their  fort  and  plunged 
into  the  forest.  There,  turn  what  way  they  might,  the 
soldier's  pike  confronted  them  and  the  savage  sprang  out 
upon  them.  In  the  stern  work  of  retribution  the  arm  of 
neither  Frenchman  nor  Indian  grew  weary  until  the  last 
one  was  fallen  and  the  vengeance  done. 


French  Vengeance.  47 

And  what  of  the  captives,  the  three  fifteens,  reserved  with 
sinister  intent  by  De  Gourgues  ?  This  is  the  record  of 
their  fate,  given  in  the  old  chronicle — 

W^t  xtsA  of  X\t  S^paniarHef;  \t\xi%  \t^  atoap  pmontrit  tottd 
tf)e  ot^et:K>  after  tf)at  tl^e  (SeneraU  daU  cij^etoeH  t^em  tfie  toron^ 
tD|)tc|)  tf)ep  \^  Irone  tottfiout  occaisuin  to  all  %t  Jrencfi 
Iriatton^  iuere  all  j^an^eH  on  tl^e  bonff|)£(  of  X%t  tfame  treect 
to^ereon  tj)e  JFrencb  i^unff;  of  to&tc6  number  fttie  [jaU  been 
j^an^eti  tp  one  S>pantarli«  tDlbte|)>  nets  percet^tns  I)tmje(elfe  in 
tj^e  Uiie  mt£(erai)le  ecstate^  confecifiieti  l^td  fault  anH  t^e  iufit 
iuHfuient  toj^tcg  <0oti  l^aH  brou^f^t  upon  i)tiu* 

^ut  ixi  isteati  of  ti)e  tortttnf  toMcl)  PeHro  ;(Kelen)ie^  j^aH 
ban^eti  ober  t^em,  intporttnir  ^t^t  toorUe^  \xi  Jt^panicit), ''  3r  ^oe 
not  tj^tfii  aiet  unto  iPrencl)  men^  but  act  unto  lutt^eranct/' 
(Sours^uec;  tauc^eU  to  be  imprtntel{  tDttJb  a  stearins  iron  on  a 
table  ot  iPirretoooH^  *'  %  Hoe  not  %v&  a^  unto  S^pantartietf^  nor 
afi(  unto  iUarinerci^  but  act  unto  ^raitoriE^^  Bobbers,  anH  iHur- 
tf)ererfi(/* 

A  fire,  which  had  been  kindled  by  some  Indians  that 
they  might  broil  fish  to  feast  the  Frenchmen,  lighted  the 
train  of  the  powder  magazine  and  blew  up  the  store- 
houses of  the  Spaniards;  and  the  Indians,  who  had  helped 
to  build  Fort  Caroline,  now  demolished  its  walls  and 
leveled  it  with  the  ground.  The  joy  of  the  savages  at 
the  destruction  which  had  overtaken  their  enemies  knew 
no  bounds ;  and  they  came  in  from  all  the  villages,  flocking 
to  De  Gourgues  to  honor  him  with  praises  and  gifts  as 
their  friend  and  deliverer.  One  ancient  crone  declared 
that  "she  cared  not  any  longer  to  die,  since  she  had  seen 
the  French  once  again  in  Florida  and  the  Spaniards 
chased  out." 

Having  assembled   his  company  to  return  thanks  to 


48  Old  St,  Augustine, 

God  for  their  victory  and  to  pray  for  a  safe  voyage  home 
again,  and  taking  leave  of  the  Indians,  who  cried  aloud 
with  sorrow  at  his  going,  Dominique  De  Gourgues,  his 
mission  accomplished,  set  sail  for  France,  where  in  due 
time  he  arrived,  having  eluded  the  pursuit  of  "eighteen 
Pinnesses  and  a  great  Shippe  of  two  hundred  Tunnes,  full 
of  Spanyardes,  which  being  assured  of  the  defeat  in 
Florida,  followed  him  to  make  him  yeeld  another  account 
of  his  voyage,  than  that  wherewith  hee  made  many  French- 
men right  glad." 


VIII. 

AFTER     TWENTY    YEARS. 

1^1  WENT Y  summers  have  come  and  gone,  since  that 
I  ^  September  day  of  Spanish  pomp  in  Seloy.  The 
iSH  romance  of  Florida  has  departed.  No  city  of 
gold  has  been  found,  nor  mountain  of  treasure,  nor  pearl 
fishery,  nor  fountain  of  youth.  One  illusion  after  another, 
all  have  vanished.     The  magnificent  dream  is  over. 

Florida  is  an  unprofitable  possession,  it  has  contrib- 
uted no  revenues  to  the  crown,  nor  will  it  ever;  but  with 
jealous  hand  the  Spanish  monarch  maintains  his  grasp 
upon  the  barren  province.  Though  he  will  not  occupy 
the  land  himself,  others  may  not  enter;  and  here  at  San 
Augustin  he  is  constructing  his  fortifications  to  menace 
the  other  nations. 

The  town  is  an  insignificant  military  post,  whose  garri- 
son is  dependent  for  sustenance  upon  the  supply  ships 
from  Spain.  Opposite  the  fort,  on  the  northern  shore  of 
the  island,  at  the  southern  point,  now  called  by  the  sol- 
diers La  Matanza  (The  Place  of  Slaughter),  and  at 
other  points  north  and  south  along  the  coast,  beacons 
have  been  erected  to  light  the  plate  fleets  from  Mexico 


50  Old  St.  Augustine. 

and  Peru,  passing  through  the  Florida  channel  on  their 
way  to  Old  Spain. 

Well  had  it  been  for  the  French,  twenty  years  before, 
had  the  warning  ray  of  some  mighty  beacon  flashed  out 
over  the  waters  to  turn  them  from  the  fatal  coast. 

The  storms  of  twenty  winters  have  bleached  the  sands 
of  that  haunted  shore,  where  with  his  companions  sleeps 
the  martyr,  Jean  Ribault.  The  illustrious  Cavalier,  Don 
Pedro  Menendez  d'Avil^s,  Adelantado  of  the  Provinces  of 
Florida,  Knight  Commander  of  Santa  Cruz,  of  the  Order 
of  Santiago,  and  Captain-General  of  the  Oceanic  Seas, 
died  in  the  year  1574,  honored  by  Pope  and  sovereign 
and  in  the  full  flush  of  his  fame.  Eight  years  later,  in 
1582,  "to  the  great  griefe  of  such  as  knew  him,"  died 
the  Chevalier  Dominique  De  Gourgues.  The  Para- 
coussy  Satourioua,  too,  has  gone  the  way  of  his  race; 
and  after  the  custom  of  their  tribe,  his  subjects  have 
planted  about  his  grave  the  circle  of  arrows,  placing  in 
the  center  his  cassine  cup,  chiefest  memorial  of  wisdom 
and  valor;  and  with  wailing  and  tearing  of  hair  have 
observed  the  appointed  thirty  days  of  mourning. 

So  one  by  one  the  personages,  whose  deeds  have  been 
recorded  in  the  first  chapters  of  our  story,  have  passed 
away.  Spanish  bigot.  Huguenot  victim,  French  avenger, 
savage  ally — each  has  played  his  part,  and  gone  to  his 
reward.     New  actors  take  their  places. 

In  1586  came  the  English  Sea-Kings. 


IX. 

THE    ENGLISH    SEA-KINGS. 


HE  English  seaman  of  the  Sixteenth  century  was 
cast  in  heroic  mould.  It  was  the  time  of  Gil- 
bert, Frobisher,  Grenville,  Drake  and  Raleigh. 
These  were  the  captains;  and  their  crews  were  of  like 
spirit — eager  to  sail  out  into  the  wonderful  New  World, 
explore  untried  seas,  extend  the  glory  of  the  English 
name,  and  above  all  to  burn  gunpowder  against  the 
Spaniard.  For  to  English  seaports,  with  the  tales  of  new- 
found El  Dorados  beyond  the  sea,  came  dark  stories  of 
Spanish  cruelty  to  British  seamen  in  the  Western  waters. 
Armed  with  his  Papal  Bull  of  Donation,  giving  him  sole 
right  and  title  in  the  two  Americas,  the  pretentious  Don 
regarded  as  intruders  all  others  who  dared  to  trespass  on 
his  domain.  French  Huguenot  or  EngHsh  heretic,  it  was 
all  one  to  him — the  ship  was  scuttled  or  burned,  and  the 
crew  turned  over  to  the  Inquisition.  What  that  meant, 
English  seamen  too  well  knew.  Some  of  them  had  been 
stretched  upon  the  rack  at  Seville;  and  had  seen  their 
comrades  give  out  their  lives  amid  the  flames  of  the 
autO'da-fd  at  Madrid.     Chained  to  the  oars  and  with 


52  Old  St,  Augustine. 

backs  bared  to  the  lash  of  the  slave-driver,  men  of  Devon 
were  enduring  the  torture  of  heat  and  thirst  and  scourg- 
ing in  the  banks  of  Spanish  galleys.  Clad  in  the  oppro- 
brious San  Benito,  men  of  Plymouth  were  wearing  out 
their  lives  in  the  gloom  of  Peruvian  mines;  and  yet  other 
Englishmen  were  rotting  in  the  dungeons  of  the  Ever- 
lasting Prison  Remediless  at  Cartagena.  The  memory  of 
these  things,  which  had  been  endured,  nay,  were  even 
now  being  suffered  by  comrade  and  friend,  and  by  son 
and  brother,  nerved  the  English  sailor's  arm  to  strike  a 
blow  at  the  Spaniard  wherever  found. 

To  resentment  for  individual  wrongs  was  added  the 
broader  motive  of  patriotism.  England  and  Spain  were 
not  at  open  war,  but  the  peace  between  them  was  far 
from  being  hearty  or  long  enduring.  Philip  II.  was  col- 
lecting his  invincible  armada,  to  overv/helm  the  British 
Islands  and  add  them  to  his  already  colossal  empire  of 
two-thirds  the  known  world;  and  Queen  Elizabeth,  fear- 
ing to  precipitate  the  blow,  which  she  knew  must  come, 
maintained  a  policy  of  discreet  inaction.  Not  so  her 
loyal  sea  captains.  They  burned  with  impatience  to  be 
away  to  cut  off  the  gold-trains  and  intercept  the  plate- 
fleets;  and,  by  crippling  the  Spanish  monarch's  resources, 
delay,  if  they  might  not  finally  avert,  the  coming  of  the 
armada.  Many  a  stately  carack  from  the  Indies,  sailing 
home  to  Old  Spain,  struck  her  colors  at  the  English  sea- 
king's  bidding;  and  more  than  once,  when  the  Spanish 
prize  had  been  taken,  along  with  the  bars  of  silver  and 
the  ingots  of  gold,  they  brought  forth  from  her  hold,  as 
from  the  dead,  some  maimed  wretch  of  an  English  cap- 
tive— and  so  by  one  stroke  was  England's  enemy  spoiled 


The  English  Sea-Kings.  53 

of  his  treasure,  and  the  familiars  of  the  Holy  Office 
were  cheated  of  their  prey. 

Two  expeditions  already  had  "that  right  rare  and 
thrice  worthy  Captaine,  Francis  Drake,"  led  against  the 
Spaniards  in  the  West;  first,  when  at  Nombre  de 
Dios  he  showed  his  men  the  way  to  the  Treasury  of 
the  World,  and  a  second  time,  when  in  the  Golden 
Hinde  he  ploughed  a  furrow  round  the  whole  world; 
and  from  each  voyage  he  had  returned  again  to 
Plymouth  with  great  store  of  silver  and  gold,  that 
would  else  have  gone  to  swell  the  invader's  might. 
But  notwithstanding  this  staying  of  his  treasure,  the  in- 
domitable Spanish  monarch  went  on  adding  galleon  to  gal- 
leon and  armament  to  armament;  and  year  by  year  the 
rumors  that  reached  the  ports  of  the  sturdy  little  island 
grew  more  alarming.  So  it  happened  that  in  1585,  Philip 
having  laid  an  embargo  on  English  ships,  and  thus  given 
him  provocation  anew,  Francis  Drake  must  needs  go 
forth  again  to  sack  the  cities  of  the  Spanish  Main. 

On  September  14,  1585,  admiral  of  a  fleet  of  twenty- 
five  ships  and  pinnaces  and  a  company  of  2,300  men, 
Drake  sailed  out  of  Plymouth.  One  of  his  captains  was 
the  Arctic  explorer,  Martine  Frobisher,  not  long  before 
this  returned  from  his  search  for  the  Northwest  Passage 
to  Cathay,  and  from  guiding  his  pioneer  bark  amid  the 
icy  perils  under  the  North  Star,  now  come  to  court  new 
hazard  in  fighting  Spaniards  beneath  the  Southern  Cross. 
Making  for  the  coast  of  Spain,  the  Englishmen  over- 
hauled a  stout  Spanish  ship  laden  with  Poore  John  (the 
sailors'  name  for  dried  Newfoundland  fish);  extorted 
from  the  Governor  of  Bayonne  a  present  of  "wine,  oyle, 


54  Old  SL  Augtcstine. 

apples,  marmalad  and  such  like;*'  and  off  Vigo  captured 
a  flotilla  of  caravels,  in  one  of  which  they  found  "a  great 
crosse  of  silver  of  very  faire  embossed  worke  and  double 
gilt  all  over,  having  cost  a  great  masse  of  money."  Com- 
ing to  the  Cape  Verde  Islands,  they  took  Porta  Praya  and 
St.  lago;  and  having  dallied  long  for  the  ransoms  of 
those  wretched  towns,  finally  set  out  on  their  mission, 
and  turned  their  prows 

*•  Westward  ho  !  with  a  rumbelow, 
And  hurra  for  the  Spanish  Main,  O  !  " 

The  fleet  arrived  off  San  Domingo,  Hispaniola,  on 
New  Year's  Day,  1586.  Two  companies  of  troops 
landed,  entered  the  gates  on  opposite  sides  of  the  city, 
cut  their  way  through  all  opposition,  met  in  the  market 
place  in  the  center  of  the  town,  there  took  their  stand, 
demanded  ransom,  enforced  the  demand  by  firing  the 
city,  received  finally  25,000  ducats,  and  then  sailed  away 
to  the  Main.  By  a  furious  onslaught  and  after  much 
desperate  fighting,  they  made  themselves  masters  of  Car- 
tagena, and  set  about  securing  the  ransom.  What  with  one 
day  burning  the  houses  and  plundering  the  treasury,  and 
the  next  dining  and  wining  Bishop  and  Governor — and 
other  grotesque  medley  of  sacking,  spoiling  and  conflagra- 
tion, with  divers  courtesies  and  "all  kindness  and  favor" — 
six  weeks  passed  away.  Finally  the  120,000  ducats  de- 
manded were  laid  down;  and  then  the  fleet  was  ready  to 
set  out  for  the  real  destination  of  the  enterprise.  This 
was  the  Spanish  treasure  houses  at  Nombre  de  Dios  and 
Panama,  where  the  gold  and  silver  were  stored  awaiting 
transportation  to  Spain.  And  thither  they  would  now 
have  gone  but  for  the  raging  of  a  "verie  burning  and 


The  English  Sea- Kings.  55 

pestilent  ague,"  which  had  been  contracted  at  St.  lago, 
and  of  which  several  hundred  of  the  men  had  already 
died.  "With  the  inconvenience  of  continuall  mortalities," 
writes  the  historian  of  the  expedition,  "we  were  forced  to 
give  over  our  intended  enterprise,  to  goe  with  Nombre 
de  Dios,  and  so  overland  to  Panama,  where  we  should 
have  strooken  the  stroke  for  the  treasure,  and  full 
recompence  of  our  tedious  travails."  Accordingly,  with 
what  plunder  they  had  already  secured,  they  turned  their 
faces  homeward,  and  set  sail  for  England.  On  the  20th 
of  May,  being  then  off  the  Florida  coast,  they  came  in 
sight  of  a  watch  tower,  which  was  a  token  to  them  that 
there  were  Spaniards  here.  Their  hostility  to  the  race 
was  sufficient  inducement  for  them  to  approach  the  land 
and  fall  upon  the  settlement;  but  when  they  found  that  it 
was  none  other  than  San  Augustin,  a  more  particular  mo- 
tive urged  them  on  to  the  attack.  This  San  Augustin 
was  the  town  founded  by  Pedro  Menendez  d'Avil^s,  a 
Spaniard  with  whom  Admiral  Francis  Drake  and  all  other 
English  sea-kings  had  a  long-standing  account  to  adjust. 
Twenty  years  before  this,  certain  Spanish  ships  of  the 
Indian  fleet,  Admiral  Don  Pedro  Menendez  d'Avil^s  in 
command,  had  come  upon  five  brigs  flying  the  Cross  of 
St.  George  at  the  main.  Menendez  gave  chase,  overtook 
the  brigs,  delivered  his  broadside  into  them  and  cried, 
"Down  with  your  flags,  ye  English  dogs,  ye  thieves  and 
pirates  !"  And  in  due  time,  the  Englishmen  being  inca- 
pable of  defense,  the  flags  came  down,  and  the  crews 
were  handed  over  to  the  tortures  of  the  Inquisition. 
The  memory  of  this  Spanish  outrage,  as  of  all  others  like 
it,  had  been  cherished  by  English  sailors;  and  many  a 


56  Old  SL  Augustine. 

captain  had  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  fate  should 
make  him  its  chosen  avenger.  Upon  Menendez  himself 
retaliation  might  not  be  wrought.  Death  had  taken  him 
away  unpunished;  but  here  in  Florida  was  the  town 
he  had  planted,  and  upon  it  and  its  people,  by  a  sort  of 
poetic  justice,  the  debt  might  now  be  discharged. 

Drake's  flagship,  the  Elizabeth  Bonaventura,  with  the 
Primrose^  the  Tyger  and  the  others  of  the  fleet,  came  to 
anchor  off  the  harbor;  and  manning  their  pinnaces  the 
Englishmen  set  out  for  the  shore.  What  then  transpired 
between  Spanish  soldiers  and  English  sea-kings  is  related 
by  Lieutenant  Thomas  Gates,  one  of  Drake's  officers, 
whose  narrative,  told  after  the  manner  of  his  time,  is 
more  befitting  than  any  we  could  devise,  so  we  will  let 
him  relate  it: — 

"After  three  dayes  spent  in  watering  our  Ships,  wee 
departed  now  the  second  time  from  this  Cape  of  S.  An- 
thony, the  thirteenth  of  May,  and  proceeding  about  the 
Cape  of  Florida,  wee  never  touched  anjrwhere;  but  coast- 
ing alongst  Florida  and  keeping  the  shore  still  in  sight, 
the  28  of  May,  early  in  the  morning,  wee  descried  on  the 
shore  a  place  built  like  a  Beacon,  which  was  indeede  a 
scaffold  upon  foure  long  mastes  raised  on  ende,  for  men 
to  discover  to  the  seaward,  being  in  the  latitude  of  thirtie 
degrees,  or  very  neere  thereunto.  Our  Pinnesses  manned 
and  comming  to  the  shore  wee  marched  up  alongst  the 
river  side  to  see  what  place  the  enemie  held  there;  for 
none  amongst  us  had  any  knowledge  thereof  at  all. 

"Here  the  Generall  tooke  occasion  to  march  with  the 
companies  himselfe  in  person,  the  Lieutenant  generall 
having  the  Vantguard;  and  going  a  mile  up  or  somewhat 


The  English  Sea-Kings.  57 

more  by  the  river  side,  wee  might  discover  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river  over  against  us  a  Fort,  which  newly  had 
bene  built  by  the  Spaniards;  and  some  mile  or  thereabout 
above  the  Fort  was  a  little  Towne  or  Village  without 
walles,  built  of  woodden  houses,  as  the  Plot  doeth  plainely 
shew.  Wee  forthwith  prepared  to  have  ordinance  for  the 
batterie;  and  one  peece  was  a  little  before  the  enemie 
planted,  and  the  first  shot  being  made  by  the  Lieutenant 
general!  himselfe  at  their  Ensigne,  strake  through  the 
Ensigne,  as  wee  afterwards  understood  by  a  Frenchman, 
which  came  unto  us  from  them.  One  shot  more  was  then 
made,  which  strake  the  foote  of  the  Fort  wall,  which  was 
all  massive  timber  of  great  trees  like  Mastes.  The  Lieu- 
tenant generall  was  determined  to  passe  the  river  this 
night  with  4  companies,  and  there  to  lodge  himselfe  in- 
trenched, as  neare  the  Fort  as  that  he  might  play  with 
his  muskets  and  smallest  shot  upon  any  that  should  ap- 
peare;  and  so  afterwards  to  bring  and  plant  the  batterie 
with  him:  but  the  helpe  of  Mariners  for  that  sudden  to 
make  trenches  could  not  be  had,  which  was  the  cause 
that  this  determination  was  remitted  untill  the  next 
night.  In  the  night,  the  Lieutenant  generall  tooke  a 
little  rowing  skiffe  and  halfe  a  dozen  well  armed,  as  Cap- 
taine  Morgan  and  Captaine  Sampson,  with  some  others  be- 
sides the  rowers,  and  went  to  view  what  guard  the  enemie 
kept,  as  also  to  take  knowledge  of  the  ground.  And 
albeit  he  went  as  covertly  as  might  be,  yet  the  enemie 
taking  an  Alarme,  grew  feareful  that  the  whole  force  was 
approching  to  the  assault,  and  therefore  with  all  speede 
abandoned  the  place  after  the  shooting  of  some  of  their 
peeces.     They  thus  gone  and  hee  being  returned  unto  us 


58  Old  St.  Augustine. 

againe,  but  nothing  knowing  of  their  flight  from  their 
Fort,  forthwith  came  a  Frenchman,  being  a  Phipher  (who 
had  been  prisoner  with  them*),  in  a  little  boate,  playing 
on  his  Phiph  the  tune  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  his  song; 
and  being  called  unto  by  the  guard  he  tolde  them,  before 
he  put  foote  out  of  his  boate,  what  he  was  himself e,  and 
how  the  Spaniards  were  gone  from  the  Fort;  offering 
either  to  remaine  in  hands  there,  or  else  to  return  to  the 
place  with  them  that  would  goe. 

"Upon  this  intelligence  the  Generall  and  the  Lieuten- 
ant generall,  with  some  of  the  Captiines  in  one  Skiffe, 
and  the  Vice-Admirall  with  some  others  in  his  Skiffe,  and 
two  or  three  Pinnesses  furnished  of  Souldiers  with  them, 
put  presently  over  towards  the  Fort,  giving  order  for  the 
rest  of  the  Pinnesses  to  follow.  And  in  our  approch 
some  of  the  enemie,  bolder  than  the  rest,  having  stayed 
behinde  their  companie,  shot  off  two  peeces  of  ordinance 
at  us;  but  on  shore  wee  went,  and  entered  the  place 
without  finding  any  man  there. 

*'When  the  day  appeared  wee  found  it  built  all  of  tim- 
ber, the  walles  being  none  other  but  whole  Mastes  or 
bodies  of  trees  set  up  right  and  close  together  in  manner 
of  a  pale,  without  any  ditch  as  yet  made,  but  wholy  in- 
tended with  some  more  time;  for  they  had  not  as  yet 
finished  al  their  worke,  having  begunne  the  same  some 
three  or  foure  moneths  before:  so  as  to  say  the  trueth, 
they  had  no  reason  to  keepe  it,  being  subject  both  to  fire 
and  easie  assault. 

"The  platforme  whereon  the  ordinance  lay  was  whole 
bodies  of  long  pine  trees,  whereof  there  is  great  plentie, 

*  A  marginal  note  tells  us  that  this  was  Nicholas  Burgoigne. 


The  English  Sea- Kings.  59 

layd  a  crosse  one  on  another  and  some  little  earth 
amongst.  There  were  in  it  thirteene  or  fourteene  great 
peeces  of  Brass  ordinance  and  a  chest  unbroken  up, 
having  in  it  the  value  of  some  two  thousand  pounds  ster- 
ling, by  estimation,  of  the  King's  treasure,  to  pay  the 
souldiers  of  that  place,  who  were  a  hundred  and  fiftie 
men. 

"The  Fort  thus  wonne,  which  they  called  S.  John's 
Fort,  and  the  day  opened,  wee  assayed  to  goe  to  the 
towne,  but  could  not,  by  reason  of  some  rivers  and 
broken  ground  which  was  betweene  the  two  places:  and 
therefore  being  enforced  to  imbarke  againe  into  our  Pin- 
nesses,  wee  went  thither  upon  the  great  maine  river, 
which  is  called  as  also  the  Towne  by  the  name  of  S. 
Augustin. 

"At  our  approching  to  land,  there  were  some  that 
began  to  shew  themselves,  and  to  bestow  some  few  shot 
upon  us,  but  presently  withdrew  themselves.  And  in 
their  running  thus  away,  the  Sergeant  Major,  finding  one 
of  their  horses  ready  sadled  and  brideled,  tooke  the 
same  to  follow  the  chase;  and  so  overgoing  all  his  com- 
panic  was  (by  one  layd  behinde  a  bush)  shotte  through 
the  head ;  and  falling  downe  therewith,  was  by  the  same 
and  two  or  three  more  stabbed  in  three  or  foure  places  of 
his  body  with  swords  and  daggers,  before  any  could 
come  neere  to  his  rescue.  His  death  was  much  la- 
mented, being  in  very  deede  an  honest  wise  Gentleman, 
and  a  souldier  of  good  experience  and  of  as  great  cour- 
age as  any  man  might  be. 

"In  this  place  called  S.  Augustin,  wee  understood  the 
King  did  keepe,  as  is  before  said,  one  hundred  and  fiftie 


6o  Old  St.  Augustine. 

souldiers,  and  at  another  place,  some  dozen  leagues 
beyond  to  the  Northwards,  called  S.  Helena,  he  did  there 
likewise  keepe  an  hundred  and  fiftie  more,  serving  there 
for  no  other  purpose  than  to  keepe  all  other  nations  from 
inhabiting  any  part  of  all  that  coast;  the  government 
whereof  was  committed  to  one  Pedro  Melendez  Marquesse, 
nephew  to  that  olde  Melendez  the  Admiral,  who  had 
overthrowen  Master  John  Hawkins,  in  the  bay  of  Mexico, 
some  seventeene  or  eighteene  yeeres  agoe.  This  Gov- 
ernor had  charge  of  both  places,  but  was  at  this  time  in 
this  place,  and  one  of  the  first  that  left  the  same. 

"Heere  it  was  resolved  in  full  assembly  of  Captaines  to 
undertake  the  enterprise  of  S.  Helena,  and  from  thence 
to  seeke  out  the  inhabitation  of  our  English  countrymen 
in  Virginia,  distant  from  thence  some  sixe  degrees 
Northward." 

The  Englishmen  burned  the  town,  demolished  Fort 
San  Juan  de  Pinos,  took  on  board  the  cannon  and  money, 
and  not  forgetting  the  French  fifer,  sailed  away  from  San 
Augustin.  They  were  deterred  by  the  want  of  a  pilot 
from  their  intended  enterprise  of  St.  Helena,  and  went  on 
to  Virginia.  Directed,  after  the  custom  of  those  days,  by 
the  smoke  of  a  great  conflagration  kindled  on  the  land, 
they  found  Raleigh's  people  at  Roanoke  Island;  and  the 
colony  was  in  such  sorry  plight  that  they  were  all  taken 
aboard.  Among  the  rest  was  Governor  William  Lane, 
for  whom  is  claimed  the  credit  (disputed  by  him  with 
Raleigh  and  others)  of  having,  on  this  voyage  with  Drake 
home  from  San  Augustin  in  the  year  1586,  first  intro- 
duced into  England  *^that  Indian  weed  they  call  tabacca 
and  nicotia,  or  tobacco."     Laden  with  booty  and  ran- 


The  English  Sea-Kings.  6i 

soms,  and  its  admiral  having  ^^made  himself  a  terrible 
man  to  the  King  of  Spain"  (as  the  English  Minister 
wrote  home  from  Madrid),  the  fleet  entered  Plymouth 
harbor  once  more.  In  the  following  year  Drake  made 
another  expedition  to  Cadiz,  to  "singe  the  King  of  Spain's 
beard;'*  and  then,  in  1588,  Philip's  Invincible  Armada 
at  last  sweeping  down  upon  England,  the  Elizabeth  Bona- 
Ventura  went  into  the  fight,  and  Drake  and  Frobisher 
and  all  other  loyal  English  sea-kings  made  their  valiant, 
victorious  and  forever  memorable  stand  in  that  great 
naval  combat,  whose  like  the  world  had  never  seen,  and 
on  whose  tremendous  issue  hung  the  life  of  Protestant 
England  and,  in  after  years,  the  destinies  of  her  colo- 
nies in  North  America. 

When  the  supply  ships  came  from  Spain  to  San 
Augustin,  with  reinforcements  for  the  garrison  and  ma- 
terials for  building  anew  Fort  San  Juan  de  Pinos,  the 
new  comers  related  to  those  here  the  fate  that  had 
overtaken  the  Armada  called  the  Invincible.  And  as 
they  told  the  bitter  story — how  of  its  one  hundred  and 
fifty  floating  castles  ninety-six  had  gone  down,  shattered 
by  English  cannon  shot  and  consumed  by  fire-ships  in 
the  Channel,  and  engulfed  amid  the  fury  of  the  elements 
in  the  North  Sea;  and  then,  how  of  all  its  30,000,  sol- 
diers, seamen,  knights  and  galley-slaves,  barely  one-third 
had  looked  upon  the  shores  of  Spain  again — they  men- 
tioned, more  than  once,  the  English  ship,  The  Revenge ^ 
and  its  captain,  Francis  Drake,  at  whose  name  the  eager 
listeners  interrupted  the  tale,  and  heaped  their  bitterest 
Spanish  maledictions  on  the  man  who  had  ravaged  their 
town  and  demolished  their  fort. 


X. 

THE    FRANCISCANS. 

|0  FLORIDA  with  the  adventurer  had  come  the 
missionary;  one  to  win  treasure,  the  other  to 
win  souls.  The  gold-seeker  returned  from  his 
quest  chagrined;  not  so  the  Franciscan.  He  found 
here  a  field  vast  beyond  reckoning;  and,  waiting  to  be 
gathered,  a  harvest  more  precious  than  had  been  pic- 
tured in  the  fondest  dream  of  his  pious  enthusiasm. 
The  military  prestige  of  Florida  soon  faded  away,  but 
year  by  year  its  religious  importance  increased;  and 
ever,  with  the  expansion  of  his  work,  the  Franciscan's 
zeal  grew  more  intense  and  his  labors  more  devoted. 

The  country  was  in  time  erected  into  a  religious  prov- 
ince, with  a  chapter  house  of  the  Order  of  San  Francisco 
at  San  Augustin;  and  thence  the  members  went  forth  to 
plant  the  standard  of  their  faith  in  the  remotest  wilder- 
ness. Far  out  on  the  border  of  savanna,  in  the  depth  of 
forest,  and  on  the  banks  of  river  and  lake,  by  the  side  of 
the  Indian  trails  westward  to  the  Gulf,  north  among 
the  villages  of  Alachua,  and  south  to  everglade  fast- 
nesses; here  and  there,  and  everywhere  that  lost  souls 


The  Franciscans,  63 

were  worshipping  strange  gods,  the  Franciscan  built  his 
chapel,  intrenched  it  round  about  with  earthwork  and 
palisade,  and  gathered  the  erring  children  of  the  forest 
to  hear  the  wondrous  story  of  the  Cross. 

The  missionaries  came  to  Florida  as  messengers  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  but  not  even  is  this  chapter  of  our 
history  free  from  its  stain  of  tragedy.  In  the  ancient 
Spanish  tome,  parchment-bound  and  blurred  with  age,  in 
which  are  chronicled  the  passing  of  the  years  in  this  old 
city  by  the  sea,  amid  the  records  of  wars  and  the  exploits 
of  military  personages,  a  page  is  now  and  then  devoted 
to  the  labors  and  sufferings  of  the  Franciscan  Fathers; 
and  among  them  is  a  relation  of  what  befell,  in  the  year 
1597,  at  Tolomato  and  other  Indian  villages  not  far  from 
San  Augustin: — 

"For  two  years  the  friars  of  San  Francisco  employed 
themselves  in  preaching  to  the  Indians  of  Florida.  In 
the  village  of  Tolemaro,  or  Tolomato,  dwelt  Brother 
Pedro  de  Corpa,  a  renowned  preacher  and  expounder  of 
the  doctrine;  against  whom  arose  the  eldest  son  and  heir 
of  the  cacique  of  the  island  of  Guala,  who,  being  dis- 
pleased with  the  blame  which  Father  Corpa  had  laid 
upon  him,  for  being  a  Christian  and  living  worse  than  a 
Gentile,  left  the  village,  because  he  could  not  endure 
such  treatment.  He,  however,  returned  to  the  village  in 
a  few  days,  towards  the  last  of  September,  bringing  many 
Indians  prepared  for  war,  with  bows  and  arrows,  and 
adorned  with  large  feathers  on  their  heads;  and,  entering 
silently  into  the  town  at  night,  they  went  to  the  house 
where  the  father  lived,  broke  down  the  frail  gates,  found 
him  on  his  knees,  and  killed  him  with  a  battle-axe. 


64  Old  St,  Augustine. 

This  unexpected  atrocity  became  known  in  the  village, 
and  although  some  showed  signs  of  grief  and  sorrow, 
the  majority,  who  were  less  oppressed  thereat,  on  the 
appearance  of  the  son  of  the  cacique  joined  themselves  to 
him.  On  the  following  day  he  said  to  them:  *Now  the  friar 
is  dead.  It  would  not  have  been  thus  had  he  let  us  live 
as  before  instead  of  becoming  Christians.  Now  let  us 
return  to  our  old  customs,  and  prepare  for  our  defence 
against  the  punishment  which  the  Governor  of  Florida 
will  undertake  against  us,  which  punishment,  if  carried 
out,  will  be  as  severe  for  this  friar  alone  as  it  would  have 
been  had  we  killed  them  all;  for,  in  just  the  same  way 
will  we  be  persecuted  for  this  one  friar  whom  we  have 
killed,  as  for  all  of  them.' 

"That  which  was  done  was  newly  approved  of  by 
those  who  followed  him;  and  they  said  that  there  was 
no  doubt  that  vengeance  would  be  taken  the  same  for 
one  as  for  all.  Then  the  barbarian  continued:  'Since  we 
will  suffer  no  more  punishment  for  one  than  for  all,  let 
us  regain  the  liberty  that  these  friars  have  taken  from  us 
with  promises  of  benefits  that  have  not  appeared,  and  in 
the  hope  of  which  they  have  wished  that  we  should 
experience  evils  and  torments — these  people  whom  we 
call  Christians.  They  have  persecuted  our  old  people, 
calling  them  witches.  They  have  deprived  us  of  our 
women,  leaving  us  only  one,  and  she  for  all  time,  forbid- 
ding us  to  exchange  them.  They  have  broken  up  our 
dances,  banquets,  feasts,  fires  and  wars,  so  that,  not  ac- 
customed to  them,  we  are  losing  the  ancient  valor  and 
dexterity  of  our  ancestors.  Yet  our  labor  is  of  some 
consequence  to  them;  *  *  *  *  and  although  we  are  will- 


The  Franciscans.  65 

ing  to  do  all  that  they  say,  yet  they  are  not  content. 
Always  they  are  scolding  us,  troubling  us,  oppressing  us, 
preaching  to  us,  calling  us  bad  Christians,  and  depriving 
us  of  all  the  happiness  that  our  ancestors  enjoyed.  With 
the  hope  that  they  will  give  us  Heaven,  they  are  deceiv- 
ing us  by  getting  us  under  subjection,  working  us  into 
their  ways.  What  have  we  to  look  for,  if  not  to  be 
slaves  ?  If  we  put  all  to  death,  we  throw  off  this  heavy 
yoke  at  once,  and  our  valor  will  reach  the  Governor,  who 
may  then  treat  us  well.'  The  multitude  agreed  in  what 
he  said;  and  as  a  sign  of  their  victory  they  cut  off  the 
head  of  Father  Corpa,  and  placed  it  on  a  spear  in  the 
door  as  a  trophy  of  their  conquest,  and  they  hid  the  body 
in  a  wood,  where  it  could  never  be  found. 

"Passing  to  the  village  of  Topiqui,  where  dwelt  Brother 
Bl^s  Rodriguez,  they  entered  suddenly,  telling  him  they 
had  come  to  kill  him.  Brother  Bl^s  asked  them  to  allow 
him  first  to  say  a  mass,  and  they  suspended  their  ferocity 
a  short  time  for  this;  and  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  say- 
ing it  they  gave  him  so  many  blows  that  they  finished 
him,  and  cast  his  body  out  in  the  field  that  the  birds  and 
beasts  might  devour  it.  But  none  would  approach  it 
except  a  dog,  who  was  attracted  to  it,  and  touching  it, 
fell  dead.  Afterward  an  old  Indian,  who  was  a  Christian, 
recognized  it,  and  gave  it  burial  in  the  wood. 

"Thence  they  went  to  the  village  of  Assopo,  in  the 
island  of  Guala,  where  were  Brother  Miguel  de  Aufion 
and  Brother  Antonio  Badajoz.  These  knew  in  advance 
their  approach;  and  flight  being  impossible,  Brother 
Miguel  began  to  say  mass,  and  Brother  Antonio  adminis- 
tered the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  both  engaged  in  prayer. 


66  Old  St.  Augustine, 

Four  hours  after,  the  Indians  entered,  and  put  Brother 
Antonio  to  dea.h  at  once  with  a  macana,^  and  afterwards 
gave  Brother  Miguel  two  blows  with  it;  and  having  left 
the  bodies  in  the  same  place,  some  Christian  Indians 
buried  them  at  the  foot  of  a  very  high  cross,  which  this 
same  Brother  Miguel  had  erected  in  the  field. 

"The  Indians  continued  their  cruelty,  and  went  in 
great  haste  to  the  village  of  Asao,  where  lived  Brother 
Francisco  de  Velascola  a  native  of  Castro-Urdiales,  a 
very  poor  and  humble  monk,  but  of  such  great  strength 
that  he  caused  the  Indians  great  fear.  He  was  at  that 
time  in  the  city  of  San  Augustin.  Great  was  the  trouble 
of  the  Indians,  because  it  seemed  that  they  had  accom- 
plished nothing  if  they  left  Brother  Francisco  alive. 
They  inquired  in  the  village  the  day  that  he  would  return 
to  it,  and  they  were  at  the  place  where  he  had  to  land, 
hidden  amongst  a  kind  of  rushes  near  the  water's  edge. 
Brother  Francisco  came  in  a  canoe;  and  dissimulating 
their  real  purpose,  they  ran  to  him  and  caught  him  by 
the  shoulders,  giving  him  many  blows  with  the  macanas 
and  axes,  until  his  soul  entered  to  God. 

'*They  passed  on  to  the  village  of  Aspo,  where  lived 
Brother  Francisco  Davila,  who,  as  soon  as  he  heard  the 
tumult  through  the  doorways,  took  advantage  of  the 
night  to  escape  in  the  field.  The  Indians  followed  him, 
and  although  he  had  concealed  himself  in  a  thicket, 
they  sent  three  arrows  into  his  shoulder  by  the  light  of 
the  moon,  and  trying  to  follow  to  finish  him,  an  Indian 
interfered,  to  whom  he  was  left  for  the  poor  clothing  that 
he  had,  to  whom  he  was  delivered  naked,  and  well  bound, 

*  ▲  wooden  weapon  tipped  with  flint. 


The  Franciscans,  67 

and  was  carried  to  a  village  of  infidel  Indians  to  be  held 
in  bondage  there. 

"But  the  punishment  of  God  did  not  fail  these  cruel 
ones,  for  many  of  them  who  took  part  in  these  murders 
were  hanged  with  the  cords  of  their  own  bows,  and  others 
perished  horribly;  and  throughout  the  province  God  sent 
a  great  famine,  of  which  many  Indians  died.'* 

Other  massacres  followed.  But  not  thus  was  the 
planting  of  the  Faith  in  Florida  to  be  arrested,  nor  thus 
were  the  laborers  to  be  deterred  from  gathering  the  har- 
vest. Led  into  deadly  ambush  by  pretended  converts, 
whose  hearts  had  been  seared  by  Spanish  cruelty;  smit- 
ten down  in  sacerdotal  robe  at  the  very  foot  of  the  altar; 
their  chapels  robbed  and  burned  by  savage,  English  sea- 
man and  Boucanier;  their  brothers,  on  the  way  from 
Spain,  swallowed  up  by  the  sea,  in  the  sight  of  the  con- 
vent at  San  Augustin — ^through  all  this,  and  more,  the 
Franciscans'  zeal  endured,  and  their  enthusiasm  burned 
with  an  ever  brighter  glow.  Nor  was  the  flame  finally 
quenched,  until  that  after  time,  when  the  British — having 
first  plundered  the  chapels  and  led  away  the  mission 
flocks  into  captivity — came  at  length  into  possession  of 
the  country;  and  the  Franciscan  departed  with  the  Span- 
iard out  of  Florida. 

The  accessible  records  of  the  Franciscans  here  are  few 
and  meagre.  How  far  their  missions  extended,  how 
numerous  were  the  converts  who  bowed  before  their 
persuasive  eloquence,  what  they  did  and  endured,  their 
sufferings  and  martyrdoms,  toils,  triumphs  and  achieve- 
ments— ^these  perchance  are  recorded  in  the  monastic 
archives  of  the  order,  and  thence  some  time  may  the 


68  Old  St.  Augustine. 

golden  story  be  yet  transcribed,  when,  indeed,  the  pen 
shall  be  found  that  is  worthy  to  write  it. 

Long  years  after  the  Franciscans  had  abandoned  their 
missions  in  Florida,  and  their  chapels  had  fallen  into 
decay,  the  Quaker  botanist  William  Bartram,  camping  at 
night  beneath  the  moss-hung  oaks  on  the  border  of  the 
great  Alachuan  savanna,  saw  on  the  dark  bosom  of  an  In- 
dian woman,  suspended  by  a  tiny  chain  from  her  wampum 
collar  and  shining  in  the  firelight,  a  silver  crucifix.  And 
again,  in  the  early  years  of  the  present  century,  a  band  of 
American  explorers  in  the  Everglades,  penetrating  to 
Lake  Okeechobee,  found  on  one  of  its  islands  the  ruins 
of  a  structure  of  stone;  and  there,  overgrown  by  tangled 
verdure,  its  Ora  pro  nobis  corroded  by  the  elements,  its 
voice  dead  with  the  lapse  of  untold  years,  lay  a  mission 
bell,  in  its  silence  still  eloquent  of  the  sunny  days,  long 
ago,  when  the  worshippers  gathered  at  its  call;  and  the 
dusky  hunter  halted  in  the  chase,  and  the  women  paused 
in  the  maize  fields,  to  kneel  with  uncovered  head  at  the 
ringing  of  the  Angelus, 


hum 


XI. 

THE    BOUCANIERS. 

BA  SIEMPRE  FIEL  CIUDAD— the  ever-faithful 
city — was  planted  here  by  the  sea,  to  take  what 
fortune  the  fates  might  send.     In  1665  they 
sent  the  Boucaniers. 

The  domestic  animals  imported  by  Columbus  and  his 
followers  into  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  and  abandoned 
there  when  the  mines  had  been  exhausted,  reverted  to  a 
wild  state  and  increased  and  multiplied.  Herds  of 
horses  and  cattle  pastured  on  the  savannas,  droves  of 
hogs  made  their  lair  in  the  jungles;  and  packs  of  dogs, 
sprung  from  those  brought  by  the  Spaniards  to  hunt  the 
Indians,  ranged  over  the  island,  savage  as  wolves  and 
preying  on  the  cattle  and  swine.  A  band  of  French  sea- 
rovers  came  to  the  northern  coast  of  the  island  in  1630, 
and  finding  the  game  there  worthy  of  their  prowess, 
established  a  colony  of  hunters  and  butchers.  Armed 
with  heavy  muskets  and  attended  by  the  dogs,  which 
they  tamed  and  trained  to  assist  them  in  the  chase,  these 
men  spent  their  lives  in  the  pursuit  of  the  huge  prey, 
upon  whose  flesh  they  depended  for  subsistence.    The 


70  Old  St  Augustine. 

meat  was  prepared  after  the  Carib  fashion,  being  smoked 
or  boucaned  (from  the  Indian  word  boucan)^  whence  the 
hunters  received  their  name  of  Boucaniers.  Their  life 
was  one  of  continuous  hardship  and  hazard.  Engaged 
one  day  in  terrible  conflict  with  the  wild  bulls,  and  the 
next  in  yet  more  desperate  fray  with  the  Spanish 
lanceros,  who  were  sent  to  drive  them  from  Hispaniola, 
they  became  inured  to  the  most  extreme  physical  priva- 
tion, and  grew  in  spirit  as  fierce  as  their  savage  prey. 
The  ranks  of  the  first  comers  were  subsequently  recruited 
by  the  arrival  of  other  lawless  French  and  Dutch,  until, 
having  gained  strength  by  these  repeated  accessions,  they 
intrenched  themselves  in  impregnable  island  strongholds 
and  successfully  repulsed  the  Spanish  expeditions  sent  to 
dislodge  them. 

At  length,  apprehensive  of  the  growing  power  of  these 
voluntary  exiles  so  strongly  banded  together,  and  having 
utterly  failed  to  overcome  them  by  other  expedients, 
Spain  landed  her  troops  and  waged  a  war  of  extermina- 
tion upon  the  wild  cattle  of  Hispaniola.  The  game  thus 
destroyed,  and  with  its  destruction  their  means  of  sub- 
sistence gone,  the  Boucaniers  exchanged  one  savage 
occupation  for  another.  From  seeking  food,  they  turned 
to  seek  revenge;  from  the  forests,  they  took  to  the  sea; 
from  hunting  wild  bulls,  they  went  to  hunting  Spaniards. 
The  name  Boucanier  no  longer  signified  the  inoffensive 
hunter,  living  on  his  boucanj  taking  on  a  new  and 
ominous  import,  it  meant  the  sea-rover,  whose  whole  soul 
Was  intent  upon  revenge,  and  who  lived  only  that  he 
might  pursue  his  enemy.  The  first  and  true  sea  Bou- 
caniers were  not  pirates,  waging  an  indiscriminate  war  on 


The  Boucaniers.  71 

all  mariners;  they  singled  out  Spanish  ships.  Their  im- 
pelling motive  was  not  greed,  but  hate.  Afterwards 
these  hunter-seamen  from  Hispaniola,  the  Boucaniers 
proper,  were  joined  by  other  freebooters.  There  was, 
for  instance,  the  gay  Parisian,  Ravenau  de  Susson,  who, 
being  heavily  in  debt  and  desirous  of  extricating  himself 
from  his  pecuniary  embarrassments  in  an  honorable  man- 
ner, enlisted  with  the  Boucaniers,  that  he  might  have 
wherewithal  to  satisfy  his  creditors.  Another  French- 
man, Montebaro,  reading  of  the  execrable  cruelties  of  the 
Spaniards  in  America,  conceived  so  violent  a  hatred  of 
them  that  he  speedily  set  out  to  the  West  Indies, 
where  he  became  a  Boucanier  chief  and  won  and  wore 
right  worthily  his  cognomen  of  **The  Exterminator." 

Absolved  from  the  laws  and  customs  of  their  native 
land,  the  Boucaniers  devised  a  code  of  their  own  for  the 
conduct  of  their  enterprises  and  the  division  of  booty. 
When  a  prize  had  been  taken,  an  indemnity  was  first 
paid  to  such  as  had  been  wounded  in  the  action,  the 
amount  awarded  each  one  being  proportioned  to  the 
nature  of  his  injury;  and  if  a  comrade  had  been  killed 
in  the  fray  his  share  was  given  to  some  hospital,  and  the 
beneficiary  was  admonished  to  pray  for  the  soul  of  the 
dead.  The  wounded  and  killed  having  thus  been 
provided  for,  the  rest  of  the  plunder  was  divided  equally, 
share  and  share  alike,  each  man  taking  an  oath  on  his 
gun  that  he  had  kept  nothing  back;  and  if  any  liar  was 
detected  among  them,  him,  taking  to  a  desert  island,  they 
left  to  starve;  and  his  share  of  the  prize  went  to  purchase 
masses  for  the  souls  of  comrades  slain  in  the  fight. 

No  sooner  had  the  Boucaniers  been  driven  from  their 


72  Old  St  Augustine. 

island  retreat  than  they  became  the  scourge  of  the  Span- 
ish Main.  Boucanier  sail  hovered  about  the  plate-fleets; 
and  woe  to  the  galleon  that  lagged  behind  or  was  sepa- 
rated from  her  convoys;  the  rovers  fell  to  the  attack,  be 
the  odds  what  they  might.  It  is  related  that  Pierre-le- 
Grand,  one  of  these  first  of  the  hunter- avengers,  put  to 
sea  with  twenty-eight  men  in  a  canoe,  and  at  dusk  bore 
down  on  a  huge  treasure-laden  galleon.  Rowing  along- 
side in  the  darkness,  the  adventurers  scuttled  their 
canoe,  scrambled  for  very  life  over  the  rails  of  the  ship, 
and  before  the  dumbfounded  crew  recovered  from  their 
terror  at  what  they  cried  out  were  veritable  devils  from 
the  deep,  made  themselves  masters  of  the  prize.  Such 
was  their  warfare.  The  sight  of  a  Spanish  sail  was  ever 
a  signal  for  pursuit.  Were  the  chances  desperate,  so  was 
the  onslaught  terrific;  the  crew  knelt  on  the  deck  for 
prayer,  then  went  into  the  fight  with  the  fury  of  demons. 
Not  content  with  devastating  the  seas,  the  Boucaniers 
sacked  the  ports,  and  marching  overland,  plundered  the 
rich  cities  of  the  interior.  The  appearance  of  their  ships 
on  the  coast  was  everywhere  greeted  with  alarm;  before 
their  coming  the  citizens  retired  into  the  citadels,  or  fled 
in  consternation  to  the  wilderness. 

From  such  a  band  of  hostile  sea-rovers  preying  upon 
the  Spanish  possessions  in  America  San  Augustin  could 
not  hope  for  immunity.  The  attack  came  in  1665,  and 
in  this  wise. 

A  certain  Dutch  Boucanier,  John  Davis,  having 
cruised  long  without  taking  a  prize,  resolved  upon 
the  sacking  of  Granada,  a  town  of  New  Spain,  forty 
leagues  inland,  and  defended  by  a  garrison  of  800  troops. 


The  Boucanzers.  73 

Coming  upon  the  coast  in  the  night,  Davis  concealed  his 
ship  among  the  mangroves  of  the  lagoon,  and  with  sixty 
men  in  three  canoes  set  out  on  his  perilous  enterprise. 
They  rowed  up  the  stream  by  night,  and  during  the  day 
lay  concealed  in  the  thick  foliage  of  the  banks.  The 
third  midnight  they  reached  the  gate  of  the  city.  To 
the  sentinel's  challenge  the  first  comers  replied  that  they 
were  fishermen.  He  admitted  them.  They  stabbed  him. 
Then  they  separated;  and  going  in  different  directions 
through  the  silent  streets,  knocked  at  the  houses.  The 
doors  were  opened  as  to  friends.  In  rushed  the  Bou- 
caniers,  and  rummaged  for  plunder.  From  the  dwellings 
they  hurried  to  ransack  the  churches,  pillaged  the  plate 
and  stripped  the  ornaments  from  the  altars.  Roused  out  of 
its  midnight  slumber  by  these  invaders — none  knew  whom 
nor  whence — the  city  straightway  was  in  an  uproar.  Tre- 
mendous was  the  hurly-burly.  On  every  side  were  heard 
cries  and  lamentations  of  those  who  had  been  robbed. 
Recovering  their  wits,  the  citizens  rallied,  rang  the  alarm- 
bells,  beat  the  drum,  and  rushed  to  arms.  Suddenly  as 
they  had  come,  the  Boucaniers  were  off  again.  Well 
laden  with  plunder,  and  carrying  along  some  prisoners, 
they  made  all  haste  to  the  lagoon,  where  their  ships  were 
awaiting  them;  exchanged  their  captives  for  a  ransom  of 
beef;  up  with  their  sails;  and  drew  out  from  shore  just  in 
time  to  escape  a  volley  of  bullets,  sent  after  them  by  500 
Spanish  infantry,  who  came  dashing  on  the  double-quick 
down  to  the  water's  edge.  With  their  booty  of  above 
4,000  pieces-of-eight*  in  ready  money,  besides  great 
quantities   of  plate   uncoined   and   many  jewels,  all   of 

♦  A  Spanish  coin  of  the  value  of  one  dollar. 


74  Old  St.  Augustine. 

which  was  computed  to  be  worth  the  sum  of  50,000 
pieces-of-eight  or  more,  they  sailed  away  to  Jamaica. 
"But  as  this  sort  of  people,**  says  an  old  writer  who  was 
himself  a  Boucanier,  *'are  never  masters  of  their  money 
but  a  very  little  while,  so  were  they  soon  constrained  to 
seek  more  by  the  same  means  they  had  used  before." 

His  exploit  at  Granada  having  caused  Captain  John 
Davis  to  be  esteemed  an  able  commander  of  such  enter- 
prises, presently  after  his  return  to  Jamaica  he  was  chosen 
admiral  of  a  fleet  of  seven  or  eight  Boucanier  ships;  and 
sailed  away  to  the  north  of  Cuba,  where  he  lay  in  wait 
to  intercept  the  plate-fleets  on  their  way  to  Spain.  Days, 
weeks  and  months  went  by,  but  no  treasure  ships  came; 
and  his  patience  at  length  being  exhausted,  the  redoubt- 
able admiral  bethought  him  of  some  other  luckless  Span- 
ish town  upon  which  to  make  proof  of  his  valor.  And 
so  it  came  to  pass  that,  one  fine  morning  in  the  year  1665, 
the  sentinel  in  the  watch-tower  opposite  San  Augus- 
tin,  having  descried  to  the  south  a  Boucanier  sail, 
fired  the  alarm-gun  and  hoisted  the  signal  flag.  Hearing 
and  seeing  which,  the  distracted  inhabitants  took  to  their 
heels — the  garrison  after  them;  and  all  together  fled  into 
the  interior.  There,  the  Boucaniers  behind  and  the 
savages  in  front,  with  what  fortitude  they  could  muster 
they  lay  in  concealment;  until  the  invaders,  having  found 
neither  victims  nor  booty,  demolished  the  houses,  and 
put  to  sea  again.  lis  n'y  firent  pas  grand  butitiy  car  les 
Habitans  de  ce  lieu  son  fort pauvres^  says  the  record — "they 
did  not  find  much  booty,  for  the  people  of  this  town  are  . 
very  poor." 


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XII. 

BRITISH    CANNON    BALLS. 


HE  two  fortified  strongholds  of  Pengacola  on  the 
Gulf  and  San  Augustin  on  the  Atlantic;  here 
a  fort  and  there  a  watch-tower;  and  scattered 
through  the  province  a  score  or  two  of  intrenched  mis- 
sion posts — this  was  Florida,  a  century  and  a  half  after 
Menendez  had  come  to  establish  his  Western  empire.  Of 
the  Spanish  possessions  north  of  Mexico,  San  Augustin 
was  still  the  most  important,  and  the  completion  of  its 
elaborate  defenses  was  the  task  of  the  King's  agents 
here.  From  Old  Spain  and  the  Havannah  the  cartel- 
ships  brought  fresh  bands  of  convicts,  to  join  the  cap- 
tive Indians  in  their  toil  at  the  fortifications;  year  after  year 
the  chain-gangs  hewed  the  blocks  of  coquina  shell-stone 
from  the  quarries  on  St.  Anastatia  Island;  the  galley-slaves 
ferried  their  burdens  over  the  Matanzas;  and  tier  upon  tier 
rose  the  curtains  and  bastions,  and  above  them  the  ramparts 
and  battlements,  of  Fort  San  Marco.  The  expenditure  of 
treasure,  toil  and  life,  through  all  these  years,  was  not  to  be 
in  vain ;  the  castle  was  destined  yet  to  withstand  the  shock 
of  war,  that  else  would  drive  the  Spaniard  from  Florida. 


76  Old  St.   Augustine, 

New  foes  menaced  San  Augustin.  English  planters 
had  come  to  establish  the  colony  of  Carolina.  This  was 
a*trespass  upon  Spanish  territory,  and  was  promptly 
resented.  Emulating  the  zeal  of  Menendez,  the  Governor 
of  San  Augustin  dispatched  his  galleys  to  exterminate 
the  intruders;  but  his  well-laid  plans  miscarried;  and  the 
fruitless  expedition  came  back  in  disgrace.*  Years  of 
contention  followed.  The  pirates,  who  preyed  on  Spanish 
commerce,  found  ready  protection  in  Charles  Town,  and 
sold  their  booty  there;  the  Carolina  tribes  captured 
Spanish  Indians,  and  took  them  to  the  English  merchants, 
who  traded  them  off  for  rum  and  sugar  in  the  West 
Indies.  The  Spanish  Governor,  in  turn,  promised  the 
indentured  white  servants  of  the  British  colonists  protec- 
tion and  liberty  in  Florida,  proclaimed  freedom  for  run- 
away slaves  from  Carolina  plantations,  and  welcomed  all 
fugitives  from  justice.  For  the  outrages  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  the  other,  each  race  sought  retaliation.  Fleets 
of  galleys  went  out  to  plunder  and  burn  the  Carolina 

*  The  spirit  of  the  time  is  shown  by  the  following  incident*,  set  forth  in  the 
report  of  a  committee  of  the  Commons  House  of  Assembly  of  the  Province  of 
South  Carolina,  1740:— '' In  1686  *  *  *  *  Lord  Cardross  *  *  *  *  having 
just  come  over  and  settled  at  Beaufort  on  Port-Royal  with  a  number  of  North- 
Britons,  the  Spaniards  coming  in  Three  Galleys  from  Augustine  landed  upon  them, 
killed  and  whipped  a  great  many,  after  taken,  in  a  most  cruel  and  barbarous 
manner  ;  plundered  them  all  and  broke  up  that  Settlement.  The  same  Galleys 
*  *  *  *  run  up  next  to  Bear  Bluff  on  North  Edisto  River,  where  these  Spaniards 
again  landed,  burnt  the  Houses,  plundered  the  Settlers,  and  took  Landgrave  Mor- 
ton's Brother  Prisoner.  Their  further  Progress  was  happily  prevented  by  a 
Hurricane,  which  drove  two  of  the  Galleys  up  so  high  on  the  Land  that  not  being 
able  to  get  one  of  them  oflF  again  and  the  Country  being  by  that  time  sufficiently 
Alarmed,  they  thought  proper  to  make  a  Retreat,  but  first  set  Fire  to  that  Galley 
on  board  of  which  Mr.  Morton  was  actually  then  in  Chains  and  most  inhumanly 
burnt  in  her."  Hewit  (History  of  South  Carolina)  tell  us  that  Sullivan's  Island 
received  its  name  from  one  Florence  0' Sullivan,  to  whom  the  settlers  gave  a  great 
gun,  "which  he  placed  on  an  island  situate  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  to  alarm 
the  town  in  cases  of  invasion  from  the  Spaniards." 


British  Cannon  Balls.  "jj 

settlements;  and  the  English  invaded  Florida  and  ad- 
vanced upon  San  Augustin. 

In  1702,  with  an  army  of  regulars,  militia  and  Indians, 
came  Governor  Moore,  of  Carolina,  to  chastise  the  Span- 
iard, sack  the  town,  demoHsh  the  castle  and  lead  home  a 
retinue  of  Indian  slaves.  At  his  approach,  garrison  and 
townspeople  withdrew  into  Fort  San  Marco,  shut  them- 
selves in  with  supplies  for  four  months,  raised  the  draw- 
bridge and  laughed  defiance  at  the  British  forces. 
Moore  invested  the  castle  and  entered  upon  a  regular 
siege.  There  were  sorties,  feints  and  strategies.  The 
siege  was  maintained  for  three  months;  and  then,  tired  of 
the  fruitless  bombardment,  Moore  dispatched  one  of  his 
officers  to  Jamaica  for  heavier  artillery.  Hardly  had  the 
ship  disappeared  to  the  southward,  when  two  vessels,  fly- 
ing the  Spanish  ensign,  hove  in  sight  off  the  bar.  Presto  ! 
the  siege  was  raised;  ships,  stores  and  ammunition  aban- 
doned; and  the  Englishmen  incontinently  vanished. 
Back,  three  hundred  miles  overland  to  Charles  Town, 
went  Moore;  and  out  from  behind  the  coquina  bastions 
came  the  released  Spaniards,  and  set  about  the  task  of 
building  anew  their  burned  dwellings. 

Four  years  later  an  armament  set  sail  from  San  Augus- 
tin bent  on  the  destruction  of  the  British.  When  they 
arrived  off  the  coast,  the  columns  of  smoke  on  Sullivan's 
Island  signaled  their  coming;  thunder  of  alarm-gun,  roll 
of  drum  and  clatter  of  mounted  couriers  spread  the 
tidings;  and  obedient  to  the  call,  the  planters  rallied  to 
Charles  Town,  repulsed  the  Spaniards,  took  300  prison- 
ers, and  drove  the  rest  back  to  the  shelter  of  San 
Augustin. 


78  Old  St.  Augustine. 

Mock  warfare  this.  But  where  Spanish  prowess  availed 
naught,  Spanish  craft  might  yet  triumph;  where  pike  and 
bullet  failed,  the  scalping-knife  might  yet  do  its  work. 
The  Indian  received  his  commission,  and  terrible  was  its 
execution.  Persuaded  that  the  English  were  heretics, 
who  must  go  to  perdition,  whither  the  savage  too  must 
follow,  unless  he  drove  them  from  the  land — Yemassee, 
Creek  and  Cherokee  fell  upon  the  Carolina  settlers  in 
midnight  surprise,  massacred  men,  women  and  children; 
and  frenzied  with  their  success,  brought  the  scalps  in 
triumph  to  San  Augustin,  where  ringing  of  bells  and 
firing  of  guns  welcomed  them,  and  gave  token  of  the 
general  rejoicing  here. 

Meanwhile  the  English  colony  of  Georgia  was  founded, 
with  outposts  planted  on  the  very  peninsula  of  Florida; 
and  now  more  bitter  than  ever  grew  the  warfare.  English 
scout-boats  patrolled  the  inland  waters,  and  cut  off  the 
escape  of  runaway  Carolina  slaves,  on  their  way  to  join 
the  regiment  of  negro  fugitives  at  San  Augustin.  Spanish 
costa-guardas  cruised  off  the  Georgia  and  Carolina  har- 
bors, intercepted  English  merchant  ships,  and  brought 
the  crews  to  join  the  chain-gangs  in  the  Anastatia  quar- 
ries. Once,  indeed,  there  came  a  lull,  when  Governor 
Don  Francisco  del  Moral  assented  to  a  proposal  for  the 
adjustment  of  the  boundary  dispute.  But  for  such  a 
lack  of  spirit,  unbecoming  a  Spaniard  and  unworthy  the 
Governor  of  Florida,  Don  Moral  was  speedily  summoned 
home  to  Madrid,  where  by  royal  decree  his  head  was 
severed  from  his  shoulders,  and  his  estate  sequestered 
for  the  defenses  of  San  Augustin;  and  under  new  rule, 
the  town  resumed  once  more  its  martial  air,  and  made 


British  Cannon  Balls.  79 

ready,  as  well  indeed  it  might,  to  withstand  yet  again 
the  attack  of  its  foes. 

In  June,  1740,  Governor  Oglethorpe,  of  Georgia,  set 
out  with  an  army  by  land  and  a  fleet  by  sea  to  destroy 
San  Augustin  and  drive  the  Spaniard  out  of  Florida. 
"If  it  shall  please  God  to  give  you  success,"  ran  the 
royal  instructions  from  the  English  King,  George  II., 
"you  are  either  to  demolish  the  fort  and  bastions,  or  put 
a  garrison  in  it,  to  prevent  the  Spaniards  from  endeavour- 
ing to  retake  and  settle  the  said  place  again  at  any 
time  hereafter."  But  neither  King  of  England  nor 
Governor  of  Georgia  knew  the  strength  of  the  coquina 
walls  it  was  thus  proposed  to  overthrow. 

The  British  mustered  all  their  forces:  the  Grena- 
diers from  Gibraltar;  kilted  Highlanders  armed  with 
Claymores  and  marching  to  the  bagpipes;  Saltzburger 
religious  refugees,  who  had  heard  the  story  of  the 
Huguenots*  fate  in  Florida;  Carolina  militia,  intent  on 
avenging  the  savage  massacres  of  their  friends;  and  a 
troop  of  Carolina  Indians,  eager  to  wreak  their  hatred  on 
the  Spaniards.  The  hosts  came  on  as  to  victory.  Fort 
San  Mateo  capitulated  at  their  approach.  They  drove  in 
the  Horse  Guards  from  the  San  Juan,  carried  Fort  San 
Francisco  de  Poppa  by  assault,  routed  the  garrison  from 
Fort  Picolata,  captured  the  fortified  plantation  of  San 
Diego;  and  advancing  within  two  miles  of  the  town 
itself,  stormed  Fort  Moosa,  which  was  occupied  by  a 
regiment  of  runaway  Carolina  slaves,  and  drove  its 
garrison  into  San  Augustin. 

Now  the  time  was  come  to  prove  the  strength  of 
coquina-built  San   Marco.    Within  its  walls  a  strange 


8o  Old  St.  Augustine. 

assemblage  was  gathered.  The  inhabitants  of  the  town, 
old  and  young,  had  flocked  to  its  protection;  and  with 
them  were  the  garrison  of  regulars,  the  host  of  friendly- 
Indians,  the  negro  troops,  and  the  convicts,  now  given 
their  liberty  and  supplied  with  arms.  Altogether,  shut 
up  in  the  fort,  were  3,000  souls. 

The  British  fleet,  with  Oglethorpe  in  command,  arrived 
off  the  bar;  the  troops  disembarked;  the  cannon  were 
landed;  and  batteries  were  planted  on  St.  Anastatia 
Island,  opposite  the  fort,  and  at  Point  San  Mateo  on  the 
north  shore  of  the  harbor.  Mortar  and  coehorn  opened 
fire  on  San  Marco;  and  the  Governor  of  Georgia  de- 
manded of  the  Governor  of  Florida  to  surrender.  To  the 
summons,  Manuel  de  Montiano  sent  back  an  answer 
worthy  the  gallant  Spanish  Don  he  was,  swearing  "by 
the  Holy  Cross  that  he  would  defend  the  castle  to  the 
last  drop  of  his  blood;  and  he  hoped  soon  to  kiss  his 
Excellency's  hand  within  its  walls."  A  trial  of 
strength  ensued;  but  it  was  not  of  coquina  battlements 
against  the  crashing  of  cannon  balls.  For  twenty  suc- 
cessive days  the  batteries  on  Anastatia  discharged  their 
missiles,  and  the  walls  of  San  Marco  did  not  tremble. 
The  struggle  was  fiercer  than  one  of  arms.  Spanish 
fortitude  was  pitted  against  the  pangs  of  starvation; 
English  constitutions  were  matched  against  the  fierce 
summer  heat  and  the  maddening  insect  hordes  of  Anas- 
tatia Island.  Week  after  week  went  by.  The  beleag- 
ured  Spaniards  grew  gaunt  with  famine.  The  British, 
wilting  beneath  the  sun, were  prostrated  by  fevers.  On 
both  sides  the  struggle  was  most  desperate;  but  in  the 
end    the    Spaniard     triumphed.      Montiano's    piteous 


A  VlEWoit\\e-  TOWJVaxiii  C\STLE  of  STAUGUSTJNE. 
audthe  ENGLISH  CAMP  before  it  June  20. 1740.  hy  rHO"  SILVER. 


1;    I  V.in-h  ir„7):  ii^Kiux  we  pla}'fd  wtifi  20Co\oms 

(    KiiMatia  \s\uaA .  whuh  is  chiefly  Saad^  is  Jtush** 

11  '•'iiilor.s  h.inUnt)  Camwrvm/ rtaciv  of  the  CasHe 

\.  A  Sorth  nmch  3  ^S-aHortar  of  24  t  lO  ».' 

Y  Geiif  ()£jl«>thorps  Soldiers  JncUaius  <t  Sm'Iots  i,:i,t.- 

G  A  Luvkout  Uiken  the  12'^ofJxute 

H  SoUiiers  and  Sailors  landing  June  theJlf' 

I  A  SandBoJjUTy  quiled  at  our  approaeh 

K  Cap? barren  Conurumder  over  the  SaOors  hoisting 

thf  UniOTvTlag  onboard  'a>  Schooner 
\    rhf  Sailors  wtUs  to  Water  the.  Shipping 

1  Flamborough:  2  Sector.  5  Squirrel, 
4  Tartar,  b  Phoenix. 
Sloops     6  Wolf,  7  Spence 

Emfiloy'd  in,  this  Expedition  nboul  2(H>Soi>neit 
4(H}  Soldiers  and  30O  Indian.? 

Forces  of  the  Spaniards  lOOO  besides  a  strong  i',r  ile 
and  4  Forti^ed  fiarks  and  a  Shallow  River  hind,yinft 
ourSliifipuufs  PlayinifTin  them 


vlktSugeef  aUn^asdae  in, ti.IelUr  livm  on^Seanl/BBt^ar. 
9  me  arrived  nair  S!  Augtmine,  JUtie  If  wertjotneA  iy  the 
tVBciknraa^.  CapyTearte,.  tfi«  Viimni:^.CapyFansh<i>f,the  taitMr 
CapTTnrnAai4,  and-  tfit-  Sijulrrel  CapS  Warren  of  20  Gunt  eaeh..  it  ■ 
sUa  ai»  »pta.c*  Sloop  CafifX<un.  arui'Ae,  Wtif  CaprVaruirigr,. 

On,  tfit  2^  C»l.  Taitder  IhsA«ii  iraA.  MO  Carolina  Setdift  appear  a 
u>  the  Ifonh  dflhe  Tmm,  Oivthalff'  iitaa}.  O^ethorpe  <ame  hy  Se^ 
with  3O0  Soldiers  and  JO0  Indians  Avm,  Georgii .  *n-«ft«  Wf'tt^' 
were  rarnedi  a  Shore  in,  the  Men,  of  ITars  bnau  under  Ae  corer  of 
ih«  muHL  Ships  Giuis-  They  Landed  on,  the  Island  EiutatiA  with  - 
out,  OpposHon,  and,  tooX'  the  iMokotu,  at,  G. 

TKe,  O!*"  Cap;  Warren  in,  a  Sdiooner  and  other  Jrmed  Sloops  and 
Pet^-atu/erf  andwred  in,  tiieir  Sartour Just  out  of  Cannon  shot,  tUl 
thoXH*  tr/ien,  ihiSadors  were  employed  in  landing  Ordnanee,  and 
other  Stores  wil/un  Readk/  of  the  Enemys  Cannon.  On,  trhieh^Oeettoion 
:  theiy  diseover'd  a  surprising  Spirit  and,  Jntrep'idity.  The  same  night,  UM> 
\  Batteriet  werr  raisit.  but  too  far  ofiT. 

Ttu  27*-tfte  General  .rummond  the  GoVKcaour  to  Surrender,  wA» 
snu,  »ord  he,  should  be  glad  ho  stiaJoe  hands  with  tiim  in  his  duties 
This  tvaugtuy  anstner  was  eacasion'd  by  a  dear  bought  Victory,  which 
.',00  .epanianls  had  obtain  d  over  80  Kightanders  SO  of  whom,  were 
;  stain  Itut  died  lOte Heroes  tdSting  Ihrinttheir number. 
The  2»f  bad  tvv^her  obliged  the  men  of  fTartapue  a 
but  ont  man  hiut  been  kitted.  Hereupon  the.riege  was  raised. 


British  Cannon  Balls.  8i 

appeals  were  borne  down  the  coast  by  Indian  runners, 
and  taken  over  by  messengers  in  canoes  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Cuba;  and  at  last  succor  came.  The  rescuers 
eluded  the  vigilance  of  Oglethoipe,  smuggled  in  the  pro- 
visions past  the  English  scout-boats,  and  by  night  came 
to  the  salvation  of  the  3,000  famishing  wretches  in  the 
fort;  whereupon — since  a  full  stomach  makes  a  brave 
heart — the  Spaniards  took  courage  again.  But  to  the 
British,  time  brought  no  alleviation  of  their  woes.  With 
the  approach  of  July  the  summer's  heat  grew  more  piti- 
less; the  sandflies,  the  gnats  and  mosquitoes,  in  ever 
multiplying  hosts,  rallied  yet  more  furiously  to  their  gall- 
ing onslaught.  Then  came  a  new  peril,  a  force  against 
whose  overwhelming  might  resolution  and  valor  counted 
as  nothing.  It  was  that  agency  which  two  hundred  years 
before  had  risen  to  drive  the  foes  of  San  Augustin  to  ruin. 
The  tempests  began  to  blow;  and  fearing  lest  the  fate  of 
Ribault's  fleet  should  be  their  own,  the  British  captains 
slipped  their  cables;  and  putting  to  sea,  sailed  for  home. 
Oglethorpe  followed.  Abandoning  artillery,  boats  and 
stores  (at  which  last  the  Spaniards  were  filled  with  won- 
der and  gratitude),  the  English  general  crossed  over  to 
the  mainland  north  of  the  fort,  and  with  drums  beating 
and  colors  flying,  marched  away  to  the  San  Juan's,  and 
thence  in  periaguas  made  his  retreat  back  to  Georgia. 

There,  in  good  time,  Montiano  followed,  at  the  head  of 
fifty-three  ships  and  5,000  troops,  to  exterminate  the 
colonies  of  Georgia  and  Carolina,  as  well  as  all  to  the 
north  of  them;  and  so,  once  for  all,  to  drive  the  British 
out  from  North  America.  At  St.  Simon's  Island  Ogle- 
thorpe met  him.     For  fifteen  days,  with  an  army  of  625 

6 


S2  Old  St.  Augustine, 

the  val'ant  Englishman  held  the  Spaniard's  5,000  at  bay; 
by  bold  stratagem  repulsed  and  drove  them  back;  and 
following  close  upon  their  heels,  chased  them  to  the  very 
bars  of  San  Augustin  and  Matanzas;  and  so  made  good 
that  memorable  deliverance  of  Georgia,  "which,"  George 
Whitefield  wrote,  "was  such  as  cannot  be  paralleled  but 
by  some  instances  out  of  the  Old  Testament." 

So  the  farcical  and  fruitless  warfare  went  on  twenty 
years  longer,  as  it  might  have  continued  to  this  day,  had 
not  the  mother  countries  put  an  end  to  the  contentions  of 
their  colonial  children.  By  the  treaty  of  1763,  England, 
having  previously  by  force  of  arms  gained  possession  of 
Cuba,  restored  that  island  to  Spain;  and  Spain  in  return 
made  over  to  England  her  possessions  in  Florida.  By 
this  exchange  the  San  Augustin  of  the  Spaniards  became 
the  Saint  Augustine  of  the  English;  and  over  the  battle- 
ments of  San  Marco,  which  had  so  long  and  so  bravely 
held  out  against  the  shock  of  British  cannon  balls,  floated 
the  Cross  of  St.  George. 


XIII. 

THE     MINORCANS. 

N  the  Mediterranean,  seventy  miles  from  the 
coast  of  Spain,  lies  Minorca.  The  white  cliffs 
rise  abrupt  from  a  crystal  sea.  Olive-embos- 
omed villages  nestle  on  the  slopes;  and  beyond,  purple  in 
the  diitance,  towers  the  mountain  peak  of  El  Toro,  the 
convent  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bull  glistening  like  a  star 
on  the  summit.  The  people  are  simple-hearted,  honest, 
industrious.  Travelers  tell  us  that  robbery  and  begging 
are  unknown  in  Minorca. 

The  island  has  been  known  in  history;  here  and  there, 
amid  its  orange  groves  and  palms  and  vineyards,  are  mon- 
uments of  fallen  races.  Druidical  monoliths  stand 
mysterious,  as  they  have  endured  for  centuries; 
picturesque  remains  of  Moorish  watchtowers  crown  the 
summits  near  the  sea;  mediaeval  fortifications  crumble  on 
the  crests  of  inland  hills,  scanty  patches  of  wheat  are 
grown  in  the  moats  of  ancient  castles;  the  ilex  and  the 
cactus  clothe  the  ruins  of  long  deserted  monasteries. 

Minorca  (named  by  its  Roman  conquerors,  the  Less) 
and   Majorca    (the    Greater)  belong  to  the    group    of 


84  Old  St.  Augustine. 

Balearic  Islands.  The  name  Balearic,  derived  from  a 
Greek  v;ord  meaning  to  throw,  was  given  to  them  because 
the  islanders  were  famous  for  their  skill  with  the  sling, 
as  are  the  Minorcan  shepherds  to  this  day.  In  ancient 
times,  when  the  Carthagenians  wanted  strong-armed  sling- 
ers  to  fight  their  battles,  they  found  them  in  the  Balearic 
Islands;  in  the  Fifteenth  century,  when  Spain  needed 
timber  for  her  treasure  ships,  she  built  whole  fleets  from 
the  forests  of  Majorca;  in  the  early  part  of  the  Seven- 
teenth century,  when  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  Pacific 
coast  of  North  America  were  waiting  for  the  message  of 
the  Cross,  Majorca  sent  them  Father  Junipero,  to  found 
the  Franciscan  Missions  of  California;  in  the  middle  of 
the  Eighteenth  century,  when  certain  English  planters 
required  stout-hearted  colonists  to  till  their  indigo  planta- 
tions in  the  new  British  province  of  Florida,  they  sought 
them  in  Minorca;  and  a  hundred  years  later,  when 
America,  in  the  desperate  throes  of  civil  war,  called 
for  a  hero  to  take  her  fleet  through  the  smoke  and  flame 
of  New  Orleans  and  past  the  rebel  forts  in  Mx)bile  Bay, 
she  found  that  hero  in  the  son  of  a  Minorcan  father. 

In  the  year  1767,  a  company  of  London  capitalists, 
represented  by  one  Dr.  Andrew  Turnbull,  brought  out  to 
their  grant  in  Florida  fifteen  hundred  colonists.  They 
were  chiefly  Minorcans,  with  a  few  Greeks  and  Italians. 
The  site  of  the  plantation,  fifty  miles  below  St.  Augustine, 
on  Musquito  Inlet,  was  named  by  Turnbull,  after  his 
Greek  wife's  birth  place.  New  Smyrna.  It  was  a  fertile 
ridge  of  land,  where  the  magnolia  bloomed  and  the 
orange  grew  wild  with  the  jasmine.  Here  the  Minorcans 
built  their  palmetto  huts;  set  out  about  the  doorways  the 


The  Minorcans.  85 

cuttings  of  vine  and  fig  from  their  Mediterranean  island 
home;  and  incited  by  the  bright  promises  of  reward, 
entered  bravely  and  with  hopeful  hearts  upon  the  task 
of  preparing  the  wilderness  for  the  crops  of  sugar  and 
indigo. 

The  illusion,  like  many  another  here  in  Florida  before 
and  since,  was  all  too  soon  dispelled.  It  was  the 
rehearsal  of  a  story  old  as  the  days  of  the  Israelites  in 
Egypt:  on  one  hand,  violated  pledges,  treachery,  exacting 
tyranny  and  cruelty  born  of  cupidity;  on  the  other,  un- 
requited toil,  patient  suffering,  and  at  the  last  a  broken 
spirit. 

After  two  weary  years  had  passed,  driven  to  despera- 
tion by  the  inhuman  rule  of  their  taskmasters  and  in  par- 
ticular (since  the  names  of  petty  tyrants  do  not  always 
perish  with  their  bodies)  of  one  Cutter,  the  unhappy 
colonists  resolved  upon  flight.  To  this  end,  having 
seized  some  small  craft  in  the  harbor,  they  fitted  them 
out  from  the  abundant  stores  hoarded  in  the  warehouses; 
and  were  embarking  for  the  Havannah,  when  a  detach- 
ment of  English  infantry  appeared  upon  the  scene,  by 
forced  march  from  St.  Augustine,  arriving  just  in  time  to 
intercept  the  fugitives.  The  leaders  were  arrested.  The 
grand  jury  convened.  The  forms  of  law  were  observed; 
and  the  court  sat  to  do  justice  between  the  great  planter 
and  his  New  Smyrna  colonists.  The  plaintiff,  Turnbull, 
was  an  influential  personage  in  the  province,*  a  man  whose 
favor  every  one  was  eager  to  curry.  The  accused  were 
friendless,  indentured  hirelings — regarded  as  little  better 
than  slaves.  Of  such  a  trial  there  could  be  but  one 
ending.     Five  of  the  accused  were  condemned  to  death; 


86  Old  St.  Augustine. 

one  as  the  ringleader,  another  for  shooting  a  cow  (a 
capital  offence  in  the  English  code  of  the  time),  a  third 
for  having  lopped  off  an  ear  and  two  fingers  of  the  task- 
master Cutter,  and  the  others  for  their  raid  on  the  store- 
houses. Two  of  the  condemned  were  pardoned;  which 
two  we  are  not  told,  but  it  is  a  pleasure  to  fancy  that  one 
may  have  been  the  ear-smiter.  To  perform  the  judicial 
murder  of  the  rest  was  a  task  that  none  of  the  officials 
coveted;  and  one  of  the  condemned  was  given  his  life 
upon  condition  that  he  would  act  as  the  executioner  of  the 
two  others.  "On  this  occasion,"  writes  the  English  sur- 
veyor Bernard  Romans,  one  of  the  jurors  who  convicted 
them,  "I  saw  one  of  the  most  moving  scenes  I  ever  experi- 
enced. Long  and  obstinate  was  the  struggle  of  this 
man's  mind,  who  repeatedly  called  out  that  he  chose  to 
die  rather  than  be  the  executioner  of  his  friends  in  dis- 
tress. This  not  a  little  perplexed  Mr.  Woolridge,  the 
sheriff,  till  at  length  the  entreaties  of  the  victims  them- 
selves put  an  end  to  the  conflict  in  his  heart  by  encourag- 
ing him  to  act.  Now  we  beheld  a  man,  thus  compelled 
to  mount  the  ladder,  take  leave  of  his  friends  in  the  most 
moving  manner,  kissing  them  the  moment  before  he 
committed  them  to  an  ignominious  death." 

So  the  revolt  at  New  Smyrna  was  put  down;  and  the 
colonists  went  back  to  their  taskmasters  and  indigo  fields. 
The  crop-eared  Cutter,  we  may  be  sure,  had  his  revenge; 
but,  as  in  due  time  every  rascal  must  get  his  deserts, 
shortly  thereafter  he  died  a  lingering  death,  ''having 
experienced,"  says  the  chronicle,  "besides  his  wounds, 
the  terrors  of  a  coward  in  power  overtaken  by  venge- 
ance." 


The  Minor  cans.  87 

The  wrongs  of  the  Minorcans  in  Florida  were  the  talk 
of  the  Southern  colonies;  but  no  one  interfered  in  their 
behalf,  for  no  one  had  courage  to  incur  the  enmity  of 
Tumbull.  Worn  out  by  toil,  famishing  for  food, 
pining  for  their  island  home  beyond  the  sea,  the  unhappy 
exiles  wasted  away.  The  death  rate  was  terrible.  In 
nine  years  from  their  coming,  the  1500  had  shrunk  to 
600.  The  condition  of  the  survivors  was  little  better 
than  slavery;  indeed,  did  they  attempt  to  escape,  negroes 
on  the  neighboring  plantations  carried  them  back  and 
received  from  the  tyrant  a  reward. 

The  weary  years  went  by.  Seven  summers  the  Minor- 
cans  tilled  the  indigo  fields;  seven  harvest  times  they 
crushed  the  sugar  cane.     At  length  came  the  end. 

In  Florida,  two  hundred  years  before,  the  religious 
intolerance  of  Europe  had  been  reflected  in  the  conflict 
of  Spaniard  and  Frenchman  at  Fort  Caroline;  and  the 
Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  had  been  foreshadowed  in 
the  slaughter  of  the  Huguenots  at  Matanzas.  So  now, 
here  at  New  Smyrna  was  to  be  enacted  on  mimic  scale 
a  movement  engaging  the  attention  of  the  world.  It 
was  1776 — a  momentous  year  for  British  misrule  in 
America.  Revolt  was  in  the  air.  The  oppressed  colony 
at  New  Smyrna  caught  the  spirit  of  the  times. 

It  was  a  trivial  circumstance  that  brought  about  the 
uprising  of  the  Minorcans.  A  party  of  gentlemen  had 
gone  down  from  St.  Augustine  to  New  Smyrna,  to 
inspect  the  great  canals,  the  stone  piers  and  the 
magnificent  new  mansion  of  the  proprietor;  to  learn  the 
methods  of  indigo  culture,  and  to  test  the  virtues  of 
the    famous    rum    made    from    Dr.    Turnbull's    sugar 


88  Old  St  Augustine. 

cane.  As  they  were  admiring  the  thrifty  condition  oi 
the  plantation  and  smacking  their  lips  over  the  rum, 
one  of  them,  noticing  the  squalor  and  misery  of  the 
laborers,  observed  to  a  companion  that  the  Governor 
at  St.  Augustine  ought  to  interfere  to  protect  them.  This 
remark  of  one  of  TurnbuU's  guests  led  to  a  revolution. 
A  Minorcan  boy  heard  it.  He  repeated  it  to  his  mother; 
she  to  trusted  friends.  A  whispered  conference,  a  secret 
meeting,  a  midnight  consultation — and  the  plan  was 
devised  to  reach  the  ear  of  the  Governor.  Three  of  the 
men,  having  performed  their  allotted  tasks  before  the 
time  appointed  by  the  overseer,  asked  and  were  granted 
permission  to  go  down  the  coast  to  hunt  for  turtles. 
They  set  out  and  went  with  all  speed,  not  south  for 
turtles,  but  north  for  liberty.  Following  the  beach, 
skulking  through  the  woods,  swimming  the  inlet  at 
Matanzas,  they  hurried  on  to  St.  Augustine.  Here  they 
were  given  audience,  assured  of  protection,  and  then 
sent  back  to  lead  their  people  out  of  bondage.  Other 
secret  meetings  were  held,  and  preparations  for  flight 
soon  made.  They  had  no  household  gods  to  trans- 
port. No  one  lingered  this  time  for  cuttings  of  vine  and 
fig  tree.  Pellicier,  head  carpenter,  was  chosen  to  the 
command.  He  formed  them  in  a  hollow  square.  In  the 
center  were  the  aged,  the  infirm  and  the  mothers  with 
babes  in  arms;  ia  the  outer  ranks  the  men  and 
boys,  equipped  with  clubs,  wooden  spears  and  such  rude 
weapons  as  could  be  improvised  in  the  emergency. 
Bidding  farewell  to  their  palmetto  huts,  the  strange  band 
of  fugitives  set  out  for  the  city  of  refuge.  They  went 
this  time  not  skulking  along  the  coast,  but  marching 


The  Minorcans.  89 

boldly  along  the  open  King's  Road.  The  overseers  pur- 
sued. Little  they  cared  for  overseers  now.  TurnbuU 
himself,  returning  home  to  find  his  plantation  deserted, 
in  hot  haste  followed  after.  What  feared  they  from 
Turnbull  now  ?  He  might  ride  back  to  New  Smyrna,  or 
on  to  St.  Augustine,  as  he  liked;  it  mattered  not  to  them. 
At  night  they  camped  beneath  the  pines.  The  next  day 
they  marched  on  again.  Before  sunset  of  the  third  day, 
the  motley  band  came  straggling  into  St.  Augustine. 

Again  the  jury  was  impanelled;  and  the  court  con- 
vened to  do  justice  between  the  English  planter  and  his 
Minorcan  laborers.  This  time,  no  provisions  had  teen 
stolen,  no  cow  shot,  no  taskmaster's  ear  curtailed;  nor 
could  Turnbull  invent  any  other  pretext  why  the  ring- 
leaders of  this  new  revolt  should  be  hung.  The  pinched 
faces  and  hungry  eyes  of  his  victims  pleaded  too  well 
the  pathetic  story  of  their  wrongs.  This  time,  again, 
the  trial  could  have  but  one  ending.  The  planter  was 
rebuked;  the  fugitives  were  declared  to  be  free.  Thus, 
in  1776,  for  the  Minorcans  in  Florida,  after  nine  years 
servitude,  was  made  good  their  declaration  of  independ- 
ence. 

The  refugees  from  New  Smyrna  had  come  to  St. 
Augustine  in  the  midst  of  stirring  events.  They  saw 
the  leaders  of  the  great  Revolution  in  the  North  burned 
in  effigy  on  the  public  square;  and  with  the  loyal  citizens 
of  the  town  many  of  the  Minorcans  enlisted  in  the  Florida 
Rangers,  and  went  out  to  fight  the  traitors  of  the  neigh- 
boring colonies.  Led  by  the  notorious  Colonel  Browne, 
the  recruits  in  the  service  of  the  King  saw  hard  fighting, 
and  before  the  war  was  over  had  abundant  opportunity 


go  Old  St  Augustine, 

to  learn  of  what  stuff  patriots  are  made.  It  is  a  notable 
circumstance  that  in  this  same  year,  1776,  when  the 
Minorcans  from  New  Smyrna  were  enlisting  to  help  put 
down  the  revolt  of  the  colonists,  one  of  their  countrymen 
— a  certain  George  Farragut — emigrated  from  Minorca 
to  America  and  joined  the  Colonial  army,  to  do  distin- 
guished service  in  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  afterwards 
in  the  American- Spanish  turmoils  in  West  Florida,  and 
again  in  the  War  of  181 2;  and  destined  finally,  when  his 
own  honorable  record  should  have  been  forgotten,  to 
have  his  name  and  fame  perpetuated  because  linked  with 
those  of  his  illustrious  son,  David  Glascoe  Farragut,  first 
Admiral  of  the  United  States  Navy. 

The  indigo  fields  at  New  Smyrna  ran  to  waste;  the 
sugar  mills  fell  into  decay;  and  the  iron  works  sank 
into  the  ground.  Over  them  clambered  the  yellow  jas- 
mine and  the  passion  flower;  above  them  the  magnolia 
bloomed  once  more;  and  years  afterwards,  a  party  of 
explorers  found  the  wild  orange  growing  out  from  the 
rusted  boilers.  So  kindly  nature  drew  over  the  ruins  her 
mantle  of  green,  and  blotted  out  with  flowers  each  vestige 
of  the  unhappy  site. 


XIV. 

RANGERS    AND    LIBERTY    BOYS. 


N  1775  came  the  American  Revolution.  Of  the 
fourteen  British  colonies  Florida  alone  re- 
mained loyal.  The  thunders  of  Lexington 
and  Bunker  Hill  woke  no  responsive  echoes  in  St.  Au- 
gustine. For  two  hundred  years  "the  ever  faithful  city" 
had  maintained  her  allegiance  to  the  Kings  of  Spain, 
now  in  like  manner  she  would  prove  her  faith  to  the 
King  of  England.  No  Sons  of  Liberty  held  secret  con- 
clave in  her  halls;  nor  liberty  pole  rose  in  desecration 
of  her  public  square.  Loyally  as  ever,  on  the  5th  of 
June,  1776,  the  citizens  joined  in  the  celebration  of  the 
King's  Birthday;  and  when,  three  months  later,  the 
tidings  came  from  Philadelphia  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  they  assembled  on  the  square  in  the  center 
of  the  city  to  express  their  abhorrence  of  the  document 
and  its  signers  by  burning  in  ignominious  effigy  the  two 
arch-rebels,  John  Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams. 

To  St.  Augustine  was  given  early  proof  of  the  daring 
spirit  that  animated  the  Liberty  Boys.  In  April,  1775,  the 
British  brig  Betsey  arrived  with  arms  and  ammunition 
for  the  Creeks  and  Cherokees,  who  had  been  enlisted  in 
the  cause  against  the  colonies.     The  vessel  lay  at  anchor 


92  Old  St,  Augustine. 

off  the  bar,  in  plain  view  of  the  Governor's  lookout  tower 
and  of  Fort  St.  Mark's,  and  almost  within  gunshot  of  the 
war-ships  in  the  harbor,  when  a  privateersman,  sent  out 
by  the  South  Carolina  Council  of  Safety  and  manned  by 
twelve  Liberty  Boys,  stole  alongside,  surprised  the  crew, 
overpowered  the  grenadiers  on  board,  transferred  a  large 
quantity  of  the  powder  to  their  own  craft,  spiked  the 
Betsey's  guns;  and  eluding  pursuit,  actually  made  off 
with  their  booty  to  Charleston,  whence  some  of  the 
powder  was  sent  to  the  patriots  of  Massachusetts  and 
burned  against  the  British  in  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill. 

The  town  was  a  haven  of  refuge  for  the  King's  ser- 
vants and  the  Tories,  who  fled  from  the  revolted  colonies. 
She  opened  her  gates;  and  an  oddly-assorted  throng 
came  flocking  in.  From  Georgia  appeared  the  Tory 
colonel,  Thomas  Browne — the  tar  and  feathers  given 
him  by  the  Liberty  Boys  still  sticking  to  his  skin;* 
and  not  long  after,  followed  Daniel  McGirth — once  as 

*  This  day  a  respectable  body  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty  marched  from  this  place 
to  New  Richmond  in  S.  C.  in  order  to  pay  a  visit  to  Thomas  Browne  and  William 
Thompson,  Esqs.,  two  young  gentlemen  lately  from  England,  for  their  having 
publicly  and  otherwise  expressed  themselves  enemies  to  the  measures  now  adopted 
for  the  support  of  American  liberty,  and  signing  an  association  to  that  effect; 
besides  their  using  their  utmost  endeavours  to  influence  the  minds  of  the  people 
and  to  persuade  them  to  associate  and  be  of  their  opinion.  But  upon  their  arrival 
they  found  the  said  Thompson,  like  a  traitor,  had  run  away  ;  and  the  said  Thomas 
Browne  being  requested  in  civil  terms  to  come  to  Augusta,  to  try  to  clear  himself 
of  such  accusations,  daringly  repeated  that  he  was  not  nor  would  be  answerable 
to  them  or  any  other  of  them  for  his  conduct,  whereupen  they  politely  escorted 
him  into  Augusta,  where  they  presented  him  with  a  genteel  and  fashionable  suit 
of  tar  and  feathers,  and  afterwards  had  him  exhibited  in  a  cart  from  the  head  of 
Augusta  to  Mr.  Weatherford's,  where  out  of  humanity  they  had  him  taken  proper 
care  of  for  that  night;  and  on  the  next  morning,  he,  the  said  Thomas  Browne, 
having  publicly  declared  upon  his  honour  and  consented  voluntarily  to  swear  that 
he  repented  for  his  past  conduct,  and  that  he  would  for  the  future,  at  the  hazard 
of  his  life  and  fortune,  protect  and  support  the  rights  and  interests  of  America, 
and  saying  that  the  said  Thompson  had  misled  him,  and  that  therefore  he 
would  use  his  utmost  endeavours  to  have  his  name  taken  from  the  association  he 


Rangers  and  Liberty  Boys,  93 

stout-hearted  Liberty  Boy  as  any  in  the  South,  then 
victim  of  official  wrong,  and  now  deserter  to  the  King's 
cause. f  Still  another  accession  was  the  valorous  Scotch- 
had  signed  as  aforesaid  ;  and  further,  that  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  dis- 
countenance the  proceedings  of  a  set  of  men  in  the  96th  District  in  South 
Carolina  called  Fletchall's  Party  ;  upon  which  the  said  Browne  was  then  dis- 
charged, and  complimented  with  a  horse  and  chair  to  ride  home.  But  the  said 
Thomas  Browne,  that  time  having  publicly  forfeited  his  honour  and  violated  the 
oath  voluntarily  taken  as  aforesaid,  is  therefore  not  to  be  considered  for  the  future 
in  the  light  of  a  gentleman,  and  they,  the  said  Thomas  Browne  and  Wm.  Thomp- 
son, are  hereby  published  as  persons  inimical  to  the  rights  and  liberties  of  Amer- 
ica ;  and  it  is  hoped  all  good  men  will  treat  them  accordingly.  N.  B. — The  said 
Thomas  Browne  is  now  a  little  remarkable  ;  he  wears  his  hair  very  short,  and  a 
handkerchief  tied  around  his  head  in  order  that  his  intellects  this  cold  weather 
may  not  be  affected. — (Signed)  By  order  of  Committee,  John  Willson,  Secretary. 
Augusta,  4th  August,  1775. — Georgia  Gazette^  1775. 

t  During  the  Revolutionary  War,  the  section  of  the  State  now  known  as  Bulloch 
County  was  a  favourite  resort  of  Colonel  Daniel  McGirth.  He  was  a  native  of 
Kershaw  District,  South  Carolina.  From  his  early  attachments  and  associates, 
he  joined  cordially  in  opposition  to  the  claims  of  the  British  Government.  Being 
a  practised  hunter,  and  an  excellent  rider,  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  woods 
in  that  extensive  range  of  country.  He  was  highly  valuable  to  the  Americans 
for  the  facility  with  which  he  acquired  information  of  the  enemy,  and  for  the  accu- 
racy and  minuteness  with  which  he  communicated  what  he  had  obtained.  He 
had  brought  with  him  into  the  service  a  favourite  mare,  his  own  property,  an 
elegant  animal,  on  which  he  felt  safe  from  pursuit  when  engaged  in  the  duties  of  a 
scout.  He  called  the  mare  the  Gray  Goose.  This  animal  was  coveted  by  one  of 
the  American  officers  at  St.  Ilia,  in  Georgia,  who  adopted  means  to  obtain  pos- 
session of  her,  all  of  which  were  opposed  by  McGirth,  chiefly  on  the  ground  that 
she  was  essentially  necessary  to  the  American  interest  in  the  duties  performed  by 
him,  and  without  her  he  could  no  longer  engage  in  them.  The  officer  con- 
tinuing urgent,  McGirth  said  or  did  something  to  get  rid  of  him,  which 
he  might  have  only  intended  as  a  personal  rebuff,  but  probably  was  much 
more.  He  was  arrested,  tried  by  a  court-martial,  found  guilty  of  violating 
the  articles  of  war  and  sentenced  to  be  whipped.  He  suffered  this  punishment, 
and  was  again  placed  in  prison,  waiting  to  receive  another  whipping,  according  to 
his  sentence.  Whilst  thus  situated,  he  saw  his  favourite  mare,  observed  where  she 
was  picketed,  and  immediately  began  to  concert  measures  for  his  escape  and  the 
re-possession  of  his  mare.  He  succeeded  in  both,  and  when  seated  on  her  back, 
he  turned  deliberately  round,  notwithstanding  the  alarm  at  his  escape,  and 
denounced  vengeance  against  all  the  Americans  for  his  ill  treatment.  He  executed 
his  threats  most  fully,  most  fearfully,  most  vindictively.  Indulging  this  savage, 
vindictive  temper,  was  indeed  productive  of  great  injury  to  the  American  cause, 
and  of  much  public  and  private  suffering,  but  it  was  also  the  cause  of  his  own  ruin 
and  xtix^^xy .—Johnson' s  Traditions  and  Reminiscences  0/  the  American  Revo' 
lution  in  South  Carolina, 


94  (^^^  St.  Augustine. 

man,  Rory  Mcintosh,  captain  in  His  Majesty's  High- 
landers, who,  attended  always  by  his  pipers,  paraded 
the  narrow  streets,  breathing  out  threatenings  and 
slaughter  against  the  rebels.  A  British  slaveship  from 
Senegal,  forbidden  by  the  patriots  to  land  her  cargo  at 
Savannah,  sailed  in  all  haste  to  the  friendly  harbor  of  St. 
Augustine,  to  save  from  starvation  the  two  hundred 
miserable  wretches  in  her  hold.  The  Scopholites  (so 
called  from  their  leader,  one  Scophol),  a  turbulent  and 
lawless  band,  600  strong,  marched  down  from  the  back- 
country  of  North  Carolina,  plundering,  burning  and 
laying  waste  all  in  their  path  through  Georgia. 

With  such  an  element  St.  Augustine  was  not  long  con- 
tented with  passive  loyalty.  When  Governor  Tonyn  called 
for  volunteers  to  aid  in  suppressing  the  rebellion,  the 
response  was  heartily  and  promptly  given.  Captain  Rory 
Mcintosh  fitted  out  the  privateersman  Toreyn^  of  twenty 
guns,  and  sailed  away  to  blockade  the  rebel  ports.  Citi- 
zens, Tory  refugees,  Scopholites,  Minorcans  and  Indians 
banded  together  in  the  troops  of  the  Florida  Rangers.  In 
command  was  Colonel  Thomas  Browne,  brave  and  skill- 
ful, as  heartless  as  vindictive,  and  eager  to  gratify  his 
animosity  against  the  Georgians.  McGirth,  also,  thirst- 
ing for  retaliation,  mustered  a  band  of  desperate  outlaws?, 
provided  them  with  stolen  horses,  and  conducted  a 
guerilla  campaign,  cutting  off  lonely  travelers,  rifling 
dwellings,  and  everywhere  marking  his  path  with  pillage, 
rapine  and  murder.  It  was  the  old  story  of  warfare 
between  Florida  and  Georgia;  but  more  bitter  than  had 
been  the  conflicts  of  Spaniards  and  British  were  now  the 
contentions  of  Ranger  and  Liberty  Boy,  more  desperate 


Rangers  and  Liberty  Boys,  95 

than  ever  the  war  of  races,  was  this  rancorous  civil  strife, 
where  brother  contended  with  brother  and  father  fought 
against  son. 

As  the  center  of  mihtary  operations  against  the  South- 
ern colonies  and  as  the  depot  whence  arms  were  furnished 
to  the  savage  allies  of  Great  Britain,  St.  Augustine  soon 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  Patriot  leaders;  and  re- 
peated campaigns  were  planned  to  compass  its  overthrow. 
The  first  of  these,  undertaken  by  General  Charles  Lee, 
fell  through,  because  of  mismanagement  and  delay.  Then 
rumors  were  brought  to  St.  Augustine  of  another  for- 
midable force  advancing  to  overwhelm  the  town.  Con- 
sternation reigned  supreme;  slaves  were  impressed  to 
strengthen  the  fortifications;  the  citizens  ran  hither  and 
thither  in  confusion,  placed  their  valuables  on  board  the 
ships  in  the  harbor,  and  prepared  for  flight.  The  alarm 
was  groundless.  Never  yet  had  the  city  yielded  to  a 
siege.  The  fortress  that  had  defied  the  grenadiers  of 
Oglethorpe  had  no  cause  to  tremble  at  the  coming  of  the 
Liberty  Boys.  The  invaders  advanced  only  to  the  St. 
John's.  There  they  halted.  Then,  menaced  by  fever, 
and  glad  enough  to  escape  the  perils  of  a  midsummer 
encampment,  they  turned  about  and  retired. 

The  Florida  Rangers  were  active,  aggressive  and 
successful  in  their  campaigns.  The  Minorcans  and 
Scophohtes  from  St.  Augustine  joined  the  Hessians  from 
New  York  at  the  siege  of  Savannah,  and  afterwards  took 
part  in  the  reduction  of  Charleston.  When  that  city 
surrendered,  in  1780,  a  number  of  her  citizens  were 
paroled.  Soon  after,  in  direct  violation  of  the  parole, 
many  of  them  were  torn  from  their  families  and  confinea 


96  Old  St.  Augustine. 

in  the  loathsome  prison-ships  or  banished  to  other 
colonies.  The  cartel-ship  Fidelity  brought  a  number  of 
the  Charleston  Patriots  to  St.  Augustine;  and  here  they 
were  offered  another  parole.  Most  of  them  accepted  it; 
but  the  venerable  Christopher  Gadsden,  the  Lieutenant 
Governor  of  South  Carolina,  indignantly  resented  the 
overture.  "With  men  who  have  once  deceived  me,"  he 
exclaimed,  "I  can  enter  into  no  new  contract."  Then, 
for  eleven  months,  they  shut  him  up  in  one  of  the  dark 
dungeons  of  the  fort.  From  out  the  gloom  of  that  damp 
chamber  came  one  day  a  declaration  that  gave  to  the 
Loyalists  of  Florida  new  proof  of  the  spirit  that  sustained 
the  Patriots  in  their  most  desperate  straits.  Andr^,  the 
spy  taken  by  the  cowboys  at  Tarrytown,  had  been 
tried  and  condemned  to  death.  Pending  the  execution 
of  the  sentence,  the  British  authorities  sent  to  General 
Washington  a  threat  that,  if  Andr^  died,  some  prominent 
Patriot  would  be  hung  in  retaliation;  and  to  the  white- 
haired  prisoner  Gadsden,  in  his  dungeon  of  the  British 
fort  in  St.  Augustine,  it  was  told  that  he  was  the  victim 
selected.  To  the  threat,  hear  his  reply:  "To  die  for  my 
country,"  said  he,  "I  am  always  prepared;  and  I  would 
rather  ascend  the  scaffold  than  purchase  with  my  life  her 
dishonor."  Brave  words  these,  and  of  all  ever  spoken  in 
the  fort  of  St.  Augustine  most  worthy  to  be  remembered. 
The  other  Patriots,  from  South  Carolina  and  New 
Jersey,  fared  less  harshly.  Dr.  Andrew  Turnbull  loaned 
them  his  English  newspapers — little  consolation  for 
American  rebels  there — and  Jesse  Fish  sent  oranges  and 
lemons  from  his  world-famous  grove  on  St.  Anastatia 
Island.     On  the  Fourth  of  July  (1780),  by  special  per- 


Rangers  and  Liberty  Boys,  97 

mission  they  messed  in  common;  and  one  feature  of  the 
bill  of  fare  was  an  English  plum- pudding  of  gigantic 
dimensions,  and  on  its  top  a  tiny  flag  with  thirteen  stars 
and  stripes.  Inspired  by  the  occasion,  Captain  Thomas 
Hey  ward  had  that  morning  been  busy  with  his  pen;  and 
at  this  Fourth  of  July  Patriot  dinner  in  British  St,  Augus- 
tine was  heard  for  the  first  time  the  hymn  afterwards 
sung  from  Georgia  to  New  Hampshire — 

*'God  save  the  thirteen  states, 
Thirteen  united  States, 
God  save  them  all." 

The  verses  were  set  to  the  familiar  tune  of  "God  Save 
tha  King;"  and  the  British  guards,  peeping  in  at  the 
windows  and  deceived  by  the  accustomed  air,  wondered 
greatly  at  what  they  took  to  be  the  Yankees'  sudden  return 
of  loyalty  to  King  George. 

While  contending  with  her  American  Colonies,  England 
had  become  involved  in  hostilities  with  Spain;  and  so  it 
came  about  by  the  whirligig  of  time  that  the  town,  which 
as  a  Spanish  stronghold  had  sent  out  many  an  armed 
force  against  the  British,  now  as  a  British  possessi .  n  dis- 
patched a  forlorn  hope  against  the  Spaniards.  Among 
the  Tory  officers,  who  had  found  their  way  to  St.  Augus- 
tine, was  Colonel  Andrew  De  Veaux  of  the  Provincial 
Dragoons.  De  Veaux,  who  was  noted  through  all  the 
Southern  colonies  for  his  audacity  and  foolhardiness  and 
his  strong  penchant  for  practical  joking,  resolved  on 
attempting  to  capture  the  Spanish  town  of  Nassau,  on 
the  island  of  New  Providence.  In  the  conception  and 
execution  of  his  exploit,  humor  and  valor  were  blended 
in  very  nearly  equal   proportions.     He  fitted  out  two 


98  Old  St.  Augustine, 

small  brigs  in  the  harbor,  collected  a  force  of  Rangers, 
Minorcans,  Seminoles  and  ragamuffins;  and  at  the  island 
of  Eleuthra  took  on  a  contingent  of  negroes.  The 
ridiculous  fleet  arrived  off  Nassau  in  the  night.  De 
Veaux  landed  his  forces,  surprised  the  sleeping  citadel, 
roused  up  its  garrison  and  put  them  in  irons;  occupied 
the  heights  commanding  the  town;  disposed  his  forces  to 
the  best  advantage,  and  where  there  were  not  enough 
men  to  go  round  set  up  dummies  of  straw;  at  dawn  made  a 
mock  show  of  strength,  demanded  of  the  Governor  to 
surrender,  and  to  insure  a  speedy  compliance  opened 
fire  on  him  from  the  captured  fort;  whereupon  the 
Spaniard  submitted,  and  yielded  himself  and  his  town  and , 
his  troops  to  the  doughty  British  Colonel,  the  negroes, 
the  ragamuffins  and  the  men  of  straw. 

This  happened  in  1783.  It  was  the  last  exploit  of  loyal 
St.  Augustine  in  the  cause  of  her  British  sovereign.  The 
rebellious  colonies  had  been  victorious.  The  war  was 
over.  Rangers  and  Liberty  Boys  laid  down  their  arms; 
and  the  Florida  planters  returned  to  their  fields.  With 
them  were  numerous  accessions  of  Loyalists  from  the 
other  colonies,  who  had  refused  allegiance  to  the  banner 
of  the  thirteen  stars  and  were  now  come  to  Florida  to  live 
again  under  British  colors.  Peace  resumed  her  gentle 
sway;  and  St.  Augustine  became  once  more  the  busy  me- 
tropolis of  a  thriving  English  province.  Across  the  bay  on 
St.  Anastatia  Island,  north  beyond  the  gates,  west  from 
the  batteries  on  the  San  Sebastian,  and  south  beyond  the 
stockades — in  every  direction,  smiled  the  fields  of  indigo, 
the  sugar  plantations  and  the  orange  groves.  The  traders 
rebuilt  their  booths  along  the  Indian  trails;  the  distillers 


Rangers  and  Liberty  Boys.  99 

of  tar  and  turpentine  kindled  once  more  their  fires  among 
the  pines;  the  shingle-cutters  felled  the  cypress  logs;  the 
live-oakers  returned  again  to  hew  out  the  famous  Florida 
timber  for  building  English  ships.  In  over  the  King's 
Road,  coming  north  from  the  Indian  River  and  south 
from  the  St.  Mary's,  crawled  the  slow  wagon  trains,  creak- 
ing beneath  their  burdens  of  naval  stores  and  the  harvests 
of  the  plantations.  The  harbor  was  white  with  the  wings  of 
commerce.  Prosperity  reigned  on  every  hand.  The  town, 
beautiful  amid  her  orange  bowers,  bustled  with  enterprise 
and  was  gay  with  social  delights.  Her  citizens  rejoiced 
in  the  present;  and  their  hearts  were  filled  with 
bright  anticipations  for  the  future — that  future,  which 
should  bring  its  full  recompense  for  their  seven  years  of 
war  and  its  fitting  reward  for  their  steadfast  allegiance  to 
their  King. 

It  vanished  in  a  twinkling.  Into  the  harbor,  one  day, 
came  a  ship  of  the  Royal  Navy  with  message  of  startling 
import.  The  Most  Serene  and  Most  Potent  Prince,  George 
the  Third,  by  the  Grace  of  God,  King  of  Great  Britain,  and 
the  Most  Serene  and  Most  Potent  Prince,  Charles  the 
Third,  by  the  Grace  of  God,  King  of  Spain  and  of  the 
Indies,  had  been  playing  together  a  royal  game  of  chess; 
and  each  had  i  urrendered  to  the  other  a  castle.  To  Eng- 
land Spain  yielded  Jamaica;  and  to  Spain  England  in 
exchange  gave  Florida.  The  treaty  moreover  provided 
that  the  British  should  immediately  evacuate  the  province. 

This  was  the  reward  granted  to  the  citizens  of  St. 
Augustine  for  their  staunch  fidelity  through  the  seven 
years'  war.  The  message  fell  as  falls  the  frost  that  blights 
the  orange.     Joy  was  changed  into  sorrow,  anticipation  to 


lOO  Old  St,   Augustine, 

dismay,  security  to  despair.  The  fate  of  the  Acadians 
was  theirs;  the  heart-breaking  scenes  of  Grand  Pr^  were 
rehearsed  in  St.  Augustine.  Plantations  abandoned, 
homes  deserted,  friendships  severed — in  the  transports 
sent  to  convey  them  the  British  sailed  away  from  St. 
Augustine.  Some  went  south  to  Jamaica,  some  north  to 
Nova  Scotia,  others  back  over  the  sea  to  England  again; 
but  wherever  scattered — going  never  so  far,  separated 
never  so  widely — they  bore  alway  with  them  fond  memo- 
ries of  the  sunny  homes  they  had  left  behind,  in  the  old 
town  on  the  Florida  bay. 


XV. 
THE  OLD  WORLD    IN    THE    NEW. 


NCE  more  the  troops  of  the  King  of  Spain  occu- 
pied Castle  San  Marco;  a  Spanish  sentinel 
scanned  the  sea  from  the  watch-tower  at  Ma- 
tanzas,  and  a  Spanish  keeper  trimmed  the  light  on 
Anastatia.  Spain  had  come  into  possession  of  her  own 
again.  With  the  return  of  the  Spaniard,  a  change  came 
over  Florida.  There  was  no  more  planting  nor  harvest- 
ing; the  Indian  stalked  through  deserted  indigo  fields 
and  found  shelter  in  abandoned  sugar  mills;  the  manu- 
facture of  naval  stores  ceased;  industry  was  at  an  end; 
the  crowding  sails  of  merchant  ships  no  longer  bright- 
ened the  harbor.  In  1783,  Florida  relapsed  into  her 
ancient  lethargy;  and  over  our  seaport  town  stole  the 
haze  of  dreamy  indolence  and  the  calm  of  quiet  content. 
No  feverish  vision  of  commercial  enterprise  marred  the 
serenity  of  her  repose;  no  vaulting  ambition  overleapt 
the  circumvallations  that  shut  her  in  from  the  busy  outer 
world.  Enough  for  her  that  through  the  long  siesta  of 
perpetual  afternoon  she  might  doze  in  peace  and  undis- 
turbed. 


102  Old  St,  Augustine. 

The  Minorcans,  who  still  remained  on  the  lands  given 
them  by  the  British,  fished  and  hunted;  but  the  town's 
chief  dependence  was  upon  the  supply  ships  that  came 
from  Spain,  and  the  game  and  beeves  brought  in  by  the 
Indians.  The'  Seminrtk,:  s^antjly  clad  in  gaudy  blanket, 
his  hair,  and  limbs  shining  tvith  bear's  grease,  and  pend- 
ants of  biksG  arxd  sjlv^rjhaiigin^  from  nose  and  ears,  was 
a  familiar  figure  in  the  streets.  Over  the  well-worn  trails, 
from  the  country  beyond  the  San  Juan's,  he  brought 
horses  and  cattle,  bear  meat,  venison  and  wild  turkeys; 
and  gave  them  in  exchange  for  powder  and  fineries  and 
the  much-prized  Cuban  rum.  The  policy  of  the  Span- 
iards was  to  treat  the  Indian  always  with  consideration; 
and  once  in  three  months  came  the  Queen's  schooner  La 
Barbarita,  laden  with  presents  for  her  dusky  subjects  in 
Florida. 

The  town  was  a  great  military  station;  and  beyond 
this,  nothing.  In  one  way  or  another,  the  people  were  all 
engaged  in  the  service  of  the  King.  They  kept  the 
King's  accounts,  labored  at  the  King's  fort,  wrought  in  the 
King's  forge,  manned  the  King's  pilot-boats,  bought  their 
bread  at  the  King's  bikery  and  their  meat  at  the  King's 
market.  The  barracks  were  filled  to  overflowing  with  a 
garrison,  for  which  it  taxed  the  Governor's  ingenuity  to 
find  employment.  A  guard  of  soldiers  kept  ward  over  the 
great  treasure  chest  in  the  fort;  a  guard  watched  at  the 
powder-house  on  the  plain  south  of  the  barracks;  a  guard 
noted  the  marking  of  high  noon  on  the  sun-dial,  and  by 
the  flowing  of  the  sands  in  the  hour-glass  on  the  plaza, 
all  day  and  all  night,  recorded  the  passing  time  by  strokes 
on  a  bell;  a  guard  attended  the  chain-gang  of  Cuban 


The  Old  World  in  the  New.  103 

convicts  in  their  toil  at  the  fortifications;  a  guard  was 
stationed  at  the  Governor's  residence;  a  guard  watched 
at  the  city  gates;  a  guard  patrolled  the  streets  and  a 
guard  passed  the  word  on  the  outskirts  by  night. 

On  every  land  side  the  city  was  well  defended  by 
earthworks  and  coquina  batteries.  North  of  the  town, 
from  the  fort  to  the  San  Sebastian  River,  extended  a 
rampart  with  redoubts  and  a  fosse  through  which  the  tide 
ebbed  and  flowed.  Entrance  to  the  city  was  by  a  draw- 
bridge over  the  fosse  and  through  the  gate.  When  the 
sunset  gun  was  fired  this  bridge  was  raised,  the  gate  was 
barred,  and  the  guards  took  their  station.  Through  the 
hours  of  the  night — from  fort  to  gate,  from  gate  west  along 
the  parapet  to  redoubt  Tolomato,  from  Tolomato  to  re- 
doubt Centre,  and  from  Centro  to  redoubt  Cubo  on  the 
San  Sebastian;  thence  south  along  the  river  to  the  farthest 
battery,  and  east  to  the  extreme  point  of  the  peninsula; 
then  north,  past  powder-house  and  barracks,  on  to  the 
plaza,  and  so  back  to  the  watch-towers  of  the  fort  again 
— went  the  challenge,  Centinela  alerta!  and  came  the 
answer,  Alerta  estd  /  When  once  the  gate  was  closed,  the 
belated  wayfarer,  be  he  citizen  or  stranger,  must  make  the 
best  of  it  without  the  town  until  morning.  Only  on 
extraordinary  occasions  were  the  bolts  thrown  back  at 
night,  as  when  some  messenger  might  come  with  urgent 
dispatches  for  the  Governor;  then  the  creaking  draw- 
bridge would  be  slowly  lowered;  the  officer  of  the  guard 
took  the  name  and  errand  of  the  applicant  to  the  Governor; 
and  that  dignitary  so  willing  it,  the  gate  was  finally 
opened  and  the  late  comer  admitted  and  escorted  by  a 
file  of  soldiers  into  the  Governor's  presence. 


I04  Old  St  Augustine. 

An  important  personage  was  this  Governor.  In  him 
was  vested  the  authority  of  the  King.  His  good  pleasure 
was  the  royal  will.  In  the  petty  kingdom,  where  his 
power  was  supreme  and  his  word  law,  he  held  autocratic 
sway.  And  high-handed  was  his  rule.  Did  an  obstinate 
debtor  put  off  a  creditor  with  empty  promises  instead  of 
the  current  coin  of  the  realm — straightway  the  Governor 
granted  a  bill  of  sale  and  the  delinquent's  slaves  were 
bidden  off  at  public  auction  on  the  plaza.  Was  his  Ex- 
cellency's own  siesta  interrupted  by  the  bawling  of  a 
drunken  disturber  of  the  peace — in  a  trice  the  audacious 
guzzler  of  agua  ardiente  was  haled  away  to  the  guard- 
house; and  there  he  might  bless  his  stars,  if  only  his  legs 
were  clapped  into  the  stocks,  and  not  his  back  bared  to 
the  lashes  of  the  pillory  hard  by. 

The  stocks  and  pillory  sufficed  for  the  punishment  of 
ordinary  offenses.  When  slaves  were  found  abroad  in 
the  night,  without  the  required  passes  from  their  owners, 
they  were  arrested,  locked  up  in  the  guard-house;  and 
the  next  morning,  unless  their  masters  paid  the  fine, 
were  given  the  prescribed  number  of  lashes.  The  case- 
mates of  the  fort  served  for  the  incarceration  of  criminals; 
but  the  usual  course  with  incorrigible  offenders  was  to 
drum  them  out  of  town.  Attired  in  ridiculous  garb  and 
with  pate  fantastically  shaven,  the  culprit  was  marched  at 
the  head  of  a  jeering  procession,  to  the  music  of  fife  and 
drum,  out  into  the  scrub,  and  there  formally  banished,  to 
be  thenceforth  an  outcast  and  exile.  For  felons  to  whom 
was  decreed  the  law's  extremest  penalty,  out  on  redoubt 
Cubo,  gloomily  overlooking  the  marshes  of  the  San 
Sebastian,  swung  the  creaking  gibbet;  and  hither  on  cer- 


The  Old  World  in  the  New.  105 

tain  occasions,  making  public  holiday,  the  entire  popu- 
lace wended  its  way;  and  the  thoughtful  father  brought 
his  son,  that  by  dreadful  example  the  child  might  learn 
to  what  sad  end  a  wicked  man  at  last  must  come. 

The  amusements  and  social  customs  were  those  of  Old 
Spain  and  Minorca.  Gambling  ran  high  among  soldiers 
and  townspeople.  Countless  wagers  were  decided  by 
hard-fought  battles  between  game-cocks  of  choicest 
Spanish  strain;  and  there  were  dog-fights,  too,  and  bull- 
baitings,  and  now  and  then  an  ambitious  attempt  to  repro- 
duce the  exciting  combats  of  the  matadors.  Dancing  was 
a  favorite  amusement,  and  balls  were  frequent.  The 
Florida  moonlight  night  invited  to  much  thrumming  of 
guitars  beneath  lattice  windows;  and  when  occasion 
offered,  the  midnight  was  made  hideous  with  din  of  the 
charivari,  a  noisy,  boisterous,  discordant  and  unwelcome 
serenade  of  the  second-married.  Funeral  processions 
through  the  streets  were  led  by  iki^  padre  in  his  robes, 
and  by  acolytes  in  surplices,  bearing  crucifix,  candles  and 
aspersorium.  Feast  days  and  festivals  were  scrupu- 
lously observed.  The  Massacre  of  Madrid  was  com- 
memorated by  the  solemn  celebration  of  high  mass,  and 
the  flags  throughout  the  city  displaced  in  mourning. 
With  Carnival  came  mirth  and  merrymaking;  harlequins, 
dominos  and  punchinellos  held  high  revel;  and  gay 
companies  of  maskers  went  about  the  streets.  Among 
them,  taking  the  part  of  St.  Peter,  went  one  clad  in  the 
ragged  dress  of  a  fisherman,  and  equipped  with  a  mullet 
cast-net,  which  he  dexterously  threw  over  the  heads  of 
the  not  unwilling  children,  by  such  rude  travesty  setting 
forth  the  Apostolic  fishing  for  men. 


io6  Old  St.  Augustine. 

In  the  afternoon  of  Palm  Sunday,  priest  and  people 
marched  in  procession  from  the  church,  south  to  the  con- 
vent, where  on  its  platform  in  the  open  air  stood  an  altar, 
decked  with  flowers  and  boughs;  and  here,  while  the 
congregation  kneeled  on  the  ground,  a  mass  was  said; 
and  the  nuns,  taking  from  the  little  children  their  baskets 
of  rose  petals,  strewed  them  before  the  altar  and  the  image 
of  the  Virgin.  Then  all  repaired  in  procession  to  the  glacis 
of  Fort  San  Marco,  where  at  a  second  altar  the  rites 
were  repeated.  On  Easter  Eve,  the  waits  went  about  the 
streets,  singing  beneath  the  windows,  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  violin  and  guitar,  their  Minorcan  hymn  of  joy  and 
praise  to  the  Virgin — 

Ended  the  days  of  sadness, 

Grief  gives  place  to  singing  ; 
We  come  with  joy  and  gladness, 

Our  gifts  to  Mary  bringing — * 

and  received  from  lattice  and  opened  shutter  presents  of 
sweetmeats  and  pastry. 

A  strange  bit  of  the  Old  World  was  this;  and  most 
grotesquely  out  of  place  in  the  New.  It  could  not 
long  endure.  The  United  States  regarded  with  appre- 
hension the  presence  of  a  foreign  power  on  its  southern 
boundary.  American  pioneers  were  impatient  to  entef 
the  Florida  wilderness,  which  had  lain  so  long  fallow, 
waiting  to  yield  its  abundant  harvest  to  enterprise  and 
industry.     Twice  had  bands  of  armed  invaders  from  the 

*  Disciarem  lu  dol, 

Cantarem  anb'  alagria, 
Y  n'arem  a  dd 
Las  pascuas  a  Maria. 
O  Maria  I 


The  Old  World  in  the  New.  107 

North  crossed  the  border  and  advanced  to  the  very  shadow 
of  the  coquina  fortress.  There,  as  savage,  British  and 
Patriot  had  halted  before  them,  they  turned  about  and 
retired.  And  well,  in  truth,  they  might.  Intrenched  in 
such  a  stronghold,  the  Governor  could  have  held  an 
army  at  bay.  The  battlements  of  Castle  San  Marco  stood 
staunch;  not  against  them  might  the  assault  of  arms 
prevail.  But  there  were  other  forces,  with  which,  fortify 
himself  how  he  would,  the  Spaniard  was  powerless  to 
cope.  The  indolent  Don  must  no  longer  stand  in  the 
way  of  Florida's  development.  It  was  manifest  destiny; 
and  he  yielded  to  it. 

In  the  year  1821,  Spain  having  ceded  Florida  to  the 
United  States,  relinquished  forever  her  claim  to  the  town 
her  knights  had  founded  two  and  a  half  centuries  before; 
and  here  where  the  stag  of  Seloy  had  greeted  the  Fleur- 
de-Lis  of  France,  and  the  yellow  standard  of  Spain  had 
given  brief  place  to  the  Red  Cross  of  England,  here, 
over  the  walls  of  the  old  city  gray  with  time — waved  at 
last  the  banner,  whose  bars  and  stars  symbolized  the 
strength  and  the  aspiration  of  the  youngest  born  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth. 


XVI. 

THE     SEMINOLE. 


N  January,  1836,  the  stoutest  hearts  in  St.  Augus- 
tine were  thrown  into  trepidation  by  portentous 
signals  in  the  sky.  By  day,  above  the  pines  in 
the  west  were  seen  great  columns  of  smoke,  rolling  up 
from  fired  plantations;  and  at  midnight  the  heavens  were 
lurid  with  the  glare  cf  blazing  homes.  Terror-stricken 
refugees  came  flocking  in  from  the  country;  and  their 
stories  added  to  the  general  alarm.  One  day,  the  fugitive 
was  a  father  whose  wife  and  children  had  been  shot  down 
at  their  noonday  meal;  the  next,  a  mother  whose  babe  had 
been  slain  at  her  breast;  and  again,  a  little  child,  sole 
chance  survivor  from  the  massacre  of  a  household.  The 
town  itself  was  menaced  by  the  savage  foe;  children  at 
their  play  glanced  furtively  toward  the  west;  and  the 
citizens — old  men  and  invalids  as  well — rallied  to  the 
protection  of  their  homes. 

It  was  the  final  furious  bursting  of  a  storm  which  had 
long  been  gathering.     The  Seminole  war  had  begun. 

So  long  as  the  Spaniards  ruled  Florida,  the  Seminoles 
enjoyed  undisputed  possession  of  its  fairest  lands.    Their 


The  Seminole.  109 

palmetto  villages  and  maize  fields  lined  the  fertile  banks 
of  the  Withlacoochee  and  the  Apalachicola;  their  herds 
of  cattle  pastured  on  the  Alachuan  prairies;  and  in 
pursuit  of  game  their  hunters  roamed  at  will  over  the 
entire  country.  With  the  Indians  dwelt  many  negroes,  as 
slaves  or  free  allies,  whose  ancestors  had  fled  from 
colonial  masters,  or  who  were  themselves  fugitives  from 
the  plantations  of  the  Southern  States.  Seminole  and 
negro  dwelt  together  in  contentment  and  security;  and 
they  were  prosperous  and  happy.  But  when  the  United 
States  took  possession  of  the  territory,  the  Indian's  peace- 
ful life  was  rudely  interrupted.  The  new-comers  looked 
with  a  longing  eye  upon  the  rich  lands  occupied  by  the 
Seminole,  and  coveted  the  negroes — his  slaves  and  friends. 
Land  speculators  and  man  kidnappers  rushed  in.  The 
Florida  frontier  was  infested  with  outcasts,  fugitives  from 
justice  and  unprincipled  knaves,  who  were  eager  to  dupe 
the  Indian,  defraud  him  of  his  lands,  steal  his  cattle  and 
make  merchandise  of  his  negro  slaves  and  his  free  allies. 
Bitter  conflicts  ensued.  The  settlers  demanded  the 
removal  of  the  Indians  to  the  West;  but  the  Seminoles 
refused  to  exchange  their  sunny  native  land  for  a  strange 
country  of  which  they  could  learn  no  good  report.  The 
border  outrages  increased,  and  became  more  aggravated. 
At  length,  provoked  beyond  endurance,  and  by  the 
sense  of  his  wrongs  rankling  in  his  breast  goaded  to 
final  desperation — the  savage  took  the  warpath;  and  with 
rifle,  scalping  knife  and  the  midnight  torch  sought 
revenge.  Then  the  United  States  Government,  with  a 
treasury  and  an  army  at  its  command,  set  about  the 
trifling  task  of  driving  out  from  Florida  this  paltry  rem- 


no  Old  St.  Augustine, 

nant  of  a  savage  race.  In  due  time  the  task  was  accom- 
plished; but  not  until  after  seven  years  of  most  extraordi- 
nary warfare,  the  employment  of  twenty  thousand  volun- 
teers, the  expenditure  of  forty  millions  of  dollars  and 
the  sacrifice  of  two  thousand  lives. 

Among  the  Indian  leaders,  who  had  been  most  influen- 
tial in  resisting  the  encroachments  of  the  whites  and  the 
most  determined  in  opposition  to  all  schemes  of  emigra- 
tion, were  Osceola  and  Coacoochee.*  In  a  council  of  the 
chiefs  with  the  agent,  when  Osceola  was  asked  to  sign 
his  mark  to  a  treaty  of  removal,  springing  up  in  anger  he 
cried,  "The  only  mark  I  will  make  is  with  this,'*  and 
drove  his  knife  through  the  parchment  into  the  table. 
Later,  when  the  old  Chief  Nea-Mathla  consented  to  leave 
Florida,  and  having  sold  his  cattle  to  the  whites  was 
gathering  his  people  to  emigrate  to  Arkansas,  Osceola  at 
the  head  of  a  war  party  killed  him,  and  flung  away  the 
gold  that  had  been  received  for  the  cattle,  declaring  that 
it  was  the  price  of  the  Seminole's  blood.  Osceola  and 
Coacoochee  were  the  first  to  take  up  arms  against  the 
whites;  and  under  their  inspiration  early  examples  were 
given  of  the  terrible  savage  expedients,  by  which  the 
Seminole  campaigns  were  to  be  made  memorable  in 
the  annals  of  Indian  warfare. 

In  August,  1835,  Major  Dade  and  a  command  of  troops, 

♦The  spelling  "  Osceola  "  is  that  most  common,  though  it  is  possible  that 
some  of  the  nine  or  ten  other  forms  may  be  correct.  The  name  signifies  '*  The 
Black  Drink."  The  chief,  a  full-blooded  Indian,  has  sometimes  erroneously- 
been  called  Powell,  the  name  of  the  Scotchman  who  married  Osceola's  mother 
after  the  death  of  her  Indian  husband,  Osceola's  father.  The  name  Coacoochee 
means  "  Wild  Cat."  The  Seminoles  ("Runaways,"  or  "Men  who  live  apart") 
were  originallj'^  members  of  the  Creek  tribe  of  Georgia,  who,  about  the  year  1750, 
seceded  from  the  tribe  and  came  down  to  live  in  Spanish  Florida. 


The  Seminole.  1 1 1 

no  all  told,  were  on  their  way  from  Fort  Brooke  to  Fort 
King.  At  half  past  nine  o'clock,  Tuesday  morning, 
August  28,  they  were  marching  through  an  open  pine 
barren,  four  miles  from  the  Great  Wahoo  Swamp.  The 
bright  sun  was  shining;  flowers  bloomed  along  the  path; 
gay  butterflies  flitted  about  them;  the  silence  was 
broken  only  by  the  ^olian  melody  of  the  pines.  The 
men  were  marching  carelessly,  with  no  suspicion  of 
danger,  where  surely  no  foe  could  lurk.  Suddenly,  with- 
out an  instant's  warning — from  pine,  from  palmetto  scrub, 
from  the  very  grass  at  their  feet — ^burst  upon  them  the 
shrill  war-whoop,  the  flashing  and  crackling  of  rifles,  and 
the  whistling,  deadly  rain  of  bullets.  Sixty  of  the  troops 
fell  mortally  wounded.  The  rest  rallied;  trained  the 
cannon,  and  attempted  to  form  breastworks  of  logs;  but 
in  vain.  In  quick  succession,  one  after  another,  they  fell. 
Had  the  earth  yawned  to  swallow  them  like  the  army  of 
Korah,  the  obliteration  could  have  been  little  more  com- 
plete. Of  the  no,  three,  miserably  wounded,  dragged 
themselves  away,  two  soon  after  to  die  of  their  wounds. 

This  was  the  character  of  the  Florida  war.  It  was  a 
conflict  waged  against  a  mysterious,  unseen  foe.  Nature 
had  provided  for  the  protection  of  her  children.  On  the 
islands  of  the  Great  Wahoo  and  the  Big  Cypress,  in  the 
impenetrable  fastnesses  of  the  Ocklawaha,  and  in  the  dis- 
tant everglades  of  Okeechobee,  the  Seminole  established 
his  powder  magazines,  cultivated  his  fields,  and  found  a 
secure  retreat  for  wives  and  little  ones.  Thence,  in  bands 
of  ten  and  twenty,  the  warriors  sallied  out  for  ambush, 
surprise  and  midnight  conflagration.  The  Indian  came, 
none  knew  whence.     A  yell,  a  bullet's  deadly  whizz,  the 


112  Old  St.  Augustine, 

flash  of  the  scalping  knife — and  he  was  gone,  none  knew 
whither.  To  follow  was  useless;  pursuit  could  not  over- 
take him.  The  interior  of  Florida  was  a  trackless  wilder- 
ness. In  its  mazes  the  savage  was  at  home;  he  knew 
every  foot  of  ground.  But  where  the  Seminole  went  the 
white  man  could  not  follow. 

The  full  story  of  what  the  troops  endured  in  the 
Seminole  war  will  never  be  written.  They  marched  day 
after  day  amid  dreary  wastes  of  pines;  and  with 
lacerated  feet  pressed  on  through  cruel  palmetto  scrub. 
They  hewed  a  painful  way  through  hamaks  where 
tangled  vine  and  creeper  and  swinging  llianas  im- 
peded every  step,  serpents  disputed  their  passage,  and 
progress  was  gained  by  inches.  They  woke  the  sleep  of 
slimy  reptiles  in  the  ooze  of  quaking  bogs;  the  owl  blinked 
at  them  in  the  hushed  twilight  of  sepulchral  swamps; 
they  penetrated  to  the  yet  more  awful  desolation  where 
no  living  thing  was  found.  They  swam  the  tawny  floods 
of  unnamed  rivers;  breasted  the  scum  of  stagnant  pools; 
and  threw  themselves  down  in  bivouac  amid  treacherous 
sloughs.  The  scouts,  separated  from  their  commands  and 
lost  in  the  ghostly  shades  of  moss-hung  labyrinths,  went 
mad  and  wandered  aimlessly  to  and  fro,  until  death  ended 
their  misery.  In  the  darkness  of  midnight  the  troops 
crawled  on  hands  and  knees  to  surprise  the  Indian  village; 
and  at  dawn,  rushed  upon  deserted  huts.  On  every  hand 
Osceola  and  his  men  lay  in  wait  to  cut  them  off;  Coacoo- 
chee  mocked  them  floundering  in  the  morasses.  The 
scorching  sun  beat  down  upon  them;  protracted  storms 
drenched  them;  fever  and  pestilence  were  leagued  against 
them;  amid  deadly  vapors  they  sank   and   died.      For 


The  Seminole.  1 1 3 

every  soldier  killed  by  the  savage  (so  the  official  records 
show)  five  perished  of  disease. 

The  Florida  climate  precluded  summer  campaigns. 
When  from  seamed  trunk  and  gnarled  limb  the  resurrec- 
tion-fern burst  forth  in  living  green,  when  the  hibiscus 
glowed  on  margin  of  swamp  and  pond,  and  the  splendor 
of  the  magnolia  grandiflora  paled  before  the  advancing 
glories  of  the  blazing-star,  when  on  the  ground  and  all 
about  and  in  the  loftiest  growth  of  the  forest,  were  flung 
out  the  floral  signals  of  lurking  peril — the  troops  fled  for 
very  life  from  the  miasma,  and  withdrew  to  the  summer 
stations  on  the  coast;  and  then,  in  his  swampy  fastnesses 
secure  from  molestation,  the  Indian  tended  his  crops, 
celebrated  his  green  corn  dance,  and  gathered  new 
strength  for  the  winter  warfare. 

The  Seminole  made  a  desperate  stand  for  his  Florida 
home.  He  was  exacting  from  the  whites  a  terrible  price 
for  the  acres  they  coveted.  And  even  more  desperately 
than  the  Indian,  fought  the  negro  fugitive.  Defeat  for 
him  was  not  the  loss  of  land,  but  of  liberty;  to  yield 
meant  not  exile,  but  bondage.  But  hopeless  was  the 
struggle.  As  time  went  on,  the  strength  of  Indian  and 
ally  surely  waned;  year  by  year  their  numbers  grew  less. 
Some  were  killed,  some  taken  in  battle.  More  were  cap- 
tured by  ruse  and  treachery  and  violations  of  flags  of 
truce.  The  Indian  was  a  savage — not  entitled  to  the 
consideration  accorded  a  civilized  foe.  He  refused  to  be 
vanquished  in  fair  fight;  the  war,  then,  must  be  brought 
to  an  end  by  other  means. 

Special  efforts  were  made  to  capture  the  chiefs,  Osce- 
ola and  Coacoochee.     When  these  two  influential  leaders 


114  Old  St.  Augustine. 

should  be  removed,  it  was  rightly  conjectured,  the  Sem- 
inole's strength  would  be  gone.  The  opportunity  to  take 
them  finally  came.  In  September,  1838,  General  Her- 
nandez surprised  two  camps  of  Indians  and  negroes, 
eighteen  miles  below  St.  Augustine.  The  prisoners  were 
brought  to  town  and  lodged  in  the  fort.  Among  them 
was  the  aged  chief,  Emathla,  Coacoochee's  father.  In 
response  to  a  message  from  the  old  chief,  Coacoochee 
came  in  to  St.  Augustine  for  a  conference  with  the  com- 
manding officer;  and  was  sent  back  to  bring  in  other 
chiefs  for  a  talk.  He  returned  with  Osceola  and  seventy 
of  his  followers.  They  came  with  a  flag  of  truce,  rely- 
ing upon  its  sanctity  for  their  protection.  It  was  mis- 
taken confidence.  The  pretended  conference  was  only  a 
ruse  of  the  commanding  general.  The  flag  was  disre- 
garded; the  truce  was  violated;  and  the  Indians  were 
clapped  into  prison.  With  Osceola  shut  in  behind  the 
ponderous  locks  of  one  casemate,  and  Coacoochee  se- 
curely confined  in  another — reasoned  the  general,  well 
pleased  with  his  stratagem — the  other  chiefs  would  aban- 
don the  hopeless  struggle,  lay  down  their  arms  and  come 
in  to  be  transported  to  Arkansas.  And  so  indeed  they 
would;  and  the  Seminole  war  might  have  ended  then 
and  there.  But  one  Indian  prevented  it;  and  he,  one  of 
the  very  captives  who  had  been  taken  by  treachery  and 
so  securely  locked  in  behind  the  bolts  and  bars  of  Fort 
Marion.  High  up  in  Coacoochee's  cell  was  a  narrow 
embrasure.  Through  this  aperture — his  body  attenuated 
by  secret  medicine  and  fasting — the  chief  squeezed,  one 
night,  tumbled  to  the  moat  below,  and  set  out  to  rejoin 
his  tribe.     When  they  heard  the  story  he  had  to  tell,  the 


The  Seminole.  1 1 5 

chiefs,  who  were  preparing  to  yield,  took  up  their  arms 
again  and  waged  a  war  fiercer  than  ever. 

The  other  prisoners  were  removed  from  Fort  Marion 
to  Fort  Moultrie  in  Charleston  harbor.  There  Osceola, 
brooding  over  the  fate  of  his  people,  fell  ill  and  sank 
into  a  decline.  Obeying  to  the  last  the  injunctions  of 
the  sullen  Indian  prophet  who  attended  him,  he  stub- 
bornly refused  the  medicines  proffered  him  by  the  phy- 
sicians. One  night,  while  the  prophet  muttered  in  a 
corner,  and  his  two  wives  sat  watching  the  play  of  the 
fire-light  upon  the  naked  limbs  of  the  dying  warrior, 
Osceola  smeared  the  death-paint  on  his  face,  drew  his 
knife  from  its  sheath,  brandished  it  about  his  head,  vainly 
essayed  a  war  shout — and  fell  back  dead. 

The  war  went  on.  Congress  voted  additional  millions; 
new  troops  were  enlisted  to  take  the  place  of  those  who 
had  fallen  from  the  ranks;  and  man-hunting  bloodhounds 
were  brought  from  Cuba  to  track  the  Indian  to  his 
retreats.  But  money,  troops  and  bloodhounds  failed  to 
drive  out  the  Seminole.  It  was  reserved  for  Coacoochee, 
who  had  protracted  the  war,  finally  to  end  it. 

In  May,  1841,  the  chief  left  his  stronghold  in  the  Big 
Cypress  Swamp,  and  came  in  for  a  talk  with  General 
Worth.  Not  long  before  this  his  band  had  massacred  a 
company  of  actors,  coming  from  Picolata  (on  the  St. 
John's)  to  St.  Augustine;  and  had  arrayed  themselves  in 
the  plundered  costumes.  Clad  in  the  garb  of  Hamlet, 
the  Florida  savage  spoke — 

**The  whites  dealt  unjustly  by  me.  I  came  to  them; 
they  deceived  me.  The  land  I  was  upon  I  loved.  My 
body  is  made  of  its  sands.     The  Great  Spirit  gave  me 


Ii6  Old  St,  Augustine. 

legs  to  walk  over  it,  hands  to  aid  myself,  eyes  to  see  its 
ponds  and  rivers  and  forests  and  game,  and  a  head  with 
which  I  think.  The  sun  which  is  warm  and  bright, 
shines  to  warm  us  and  bring  forth  our  crops;  and  the 
moon  brings  back  the  spirits  of  our  warriors,  our  wives 
and  children.  The  white  man  comes;  he  grows  pale  and 
sick.  Why  cannot  we  live  here  in  peace  ?  I  have  said  I 
am  the  enemy  to  the  white  man.  I  could  live  in  peace 
with  him;  but  they  first  steal  our  cattle  and  horses,  cheat 
us  and  take  our  lands.  The  white  men  are  as  thick  as 
the  leaves  in  the  hamak.  They  come  upon  us  thicker 
every  year.  They  may  shoot  us,  and  drive  our  women 
and  children  night  and  day,  they  may  chain  our  hands 
and  feet — but  the  red  man's  heart  will  be  always  free." 

The  conference  ended,  another  was  arranged.  True 
to  his  word,  the  chief  came  to  the  appointed  meeting, 
bearing  a  flag  of  truce.  The  old  ruse  was  repeated. 
The  truce  was  violated.  Coacoochee  was  seized,  thrown 
into  irons,  and  placed  on  board  a  prison-ship  in  Tampa 
Bay.  At  noon  of  the  Fourth  of  July — while  the  flag 
of  the  free  was  flying  from  the  masthead  above  him 
and  the  cannon  were  booming  in  glad  celebration  of  the 
liberties  of  the  American  people — the  manacled  chief 
was  given  a  final  hard  and  bitter  choice.  Within  forty 
days — he  was  told — the  people  of  his  tribe  must  come  in 
and  surrender  themselves  for  transportation  from  Florida, 
or,  on  the  fortieth  day,  he  and  his  fellow-prisoners  should 
be  hung  at  the  yard-arm.  This  time  there  was  no 
escape.     The  Seminole  yielded. 

Within  the  forty  days  his  people  surrendered.  Other 
chiefs  with  their   tribes    followed.     Men,  women  and 


The  Seminole.  117 

children  embarked  on  the  ships,  which  were  to  bear 
them  away  forever  from  the  land  they  loved  so  well  and 
for  which  they  had  fought  so  long.  As  the  exiles  left 
the  shore,  they  knelt  and  kissed  its  sands.  When  the 
transports  moved  away,  the  men  sat  in  sullen  silence 
about  the  decks;  the  women  and  children  broke  into 
weeping;  Coacoochee  stood  in  the  sternsheets,  gazing 
fixedly  upon  the  receding  shore;  "I  am  looking,"  he 
said,  "at  the  last  pine  tree  on  my  land." 


XVII. 
LATER     YEARS. 

[N  uneventful  period  followed  the  close  of  the 
Seminole  war  in  1842.  The  Minorcans  fished 
from  their  dug-outs  and  hunted  with  their 
smooth-bore  "Indian  traders;**  the  Cracker  carts  brought 
in  game  and  scanty  produce;  the  orange  growers 
shipped  their  golden  harvests  in  wind-bound  schooners; 
and  now  and  then  a  tourist  from  the  North  found  his  way 
by  uncertain  steamer  up  the  St.  John's  and  by  more 
uncertain  stage  across  from  Picolata,  to  explore  the  nar- 
row streets  and  the  dismantled  fortress  in  the  quaint  old 
Florida  town. 

For  twenty  years,  as  under  a  magician's  spell,  the 
drowsy  city  slumbered.  In  1861,  startled  by  the  rever- 
berations from  Charleston  harbor,  it  woke  to  hear  again 
the  clash  of  arms.  For  a  brief  moment,  the  flag  of 
Florida's  rebellion  fluttered  from  its  staff  on  the  plaza; 
but  St.  Augustine  was  far  removed  from  the  active 
theatre  of  war,  and  in  the  fratricidal  strife  took .  no  con- 
spicuous part.  For  the  town,  nevertheless,  the  war  was 
fraught  with  important  consequences;  its  close  marked 


Later   Years.  119 

a  new  stage  in  the  life  of  the  city.  In  1865  set  in  the 
tide  of  immigration  from  the  North,  which  has  gathered 
strength  with  each  succeeding  year,  and  has  completely 
altered  the  character  of  the  town.  Wonderful  has  been 
the  transformation.  At  the  change  let  them  carp  who 
will;  and  sigh  for  the  olden  times  as  they  may.  The 
spirit  of  Old  St.  Augustine  is  in  abeyance;  the  enterprise 
of  the  new  rules  the  hour.  Old  and  new,  each  has  its 
place.  New  England  granite  caps  the  Florida  coquina 
of  the  sea-wall;  and  both  together  withstand  the  surges 
of  the  Atlantic. 

The  metamorphosis  in  the  material  aspect  of  the  town 
is  one  of  many  like  transformations  wrought  here.  To 
tear  down  and  demolish  has  been  the  rule  with  foe  and 
friend  alike.  Indian,  Sea-King,  Boucanier,  British 
invader — each  in  turn  has  scourged  the  town;  and  after 
the  passing  of  each,  it  has  risen  again.  If  we  may  credit 
the  testimony  of  visitors  here,  over  St.  Augustine  has 
always  hung  an  air  of  desolation  and  decay.  After  the 
successive  changes  of  rulers,  the  new  has  always  been 
built  from  the  old.  To  use  the  coquina  blocks  from  a 
dilapidated  structure  was  less  laborious  than  to  hew  out 
new  material  from  the  Anastatia  quarries.  In  this  man- 
ner were  destroyed  the  coquina  batteries,  that  in  old 
times  defended  the  southern  line  of  the  town.  The 
stone  from  one  of  them  was  employed  in  building  the 
Franciscan  convent,  and  thence  it  went  into  the  founda- 
tions of  the  barracks,  which  rose  on  the  convent  site. 
Another  lot  of  coquina  passed  through  a  like  cycle  of 
usefulness,  from  outskirt  battery  into  parish  church,  and 
from  parish  church  to  the  repair  of  the  city  gate.     So 


T20         *        Old  St,  Augustine. 

universal,  indeed,  has  been  this  process  of  tearing  down 
the  old  to  construct  the  new,  that  there  are  few  edifices 
here  to-day,  concerning  whose  antiquity  we  have  satis- 
factory evidence.  Boston  worships  in  churches  more 
ancient  than  the  cathedral;  New  Orleans  markets  are 
older  than  the  disused  one  on  the  plaza;  Salem  wharves 
antedate  the  sea-wall ;  on  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut,  the 
Hudson  and  the  Potomac  stand  dwellings  more  venerable 
than  any  here  on  the  Matanzas*.  The  destructive  waves 
of  improvement  have  swept  over  St.  Augustine,  resistless 
as  the  advancing  waters  of  the  sea,  which  now  dash  over 
the  ruins  of  the  Spanish  lighthouse  they  long  since  under- 
mined; and  as  persistent  as  the  elements,  which  have 
leveled  to  the  ground  useless  ramparts  and  redoubts. 

Everywhere  may  be  seen  evidences  of  the  change. 
The  walls  of  the  old  powder-house,  with  its  sentry-boxes, 
have  been  demolished;  its  site  can  be  distinguished  only 
by  the  sunken  foundation-stones.  Nothing  whatever  is 
left  to  suggest  the  famous  Governor's-house,  north  of  the 
plaza,  which  stood  in  the  midst  of  its  wonderful  botanic 
garden,  high-walled  all  about,  and  with  a  lofty  lookout, 
whence,  like  Vathek  from  his  genii-builded  tower,  the 
Spaniard  might  gaze  abroad  over  the  surrounding  country 
and  far  out  to  sea.  The  open  square  in  the  center  of 
the  city — the  plaza  of  the  Spaniards  and  the  parade 
ground  of  the  English,  where  Spanish  and  British  soldiery 


♦  The  cathedral  was  completed  in  1791.  The  present  sea-wall  was  built  in  1835- 
43.  The  *'oldest  house  in  St.  Augustine,"  like  "the  old  slave-pen"  and  "the  old 
Huguenot  burying-ground,"  is  an  invention  of  the  sensational  guide-book  manu- 
facturers. It  is  not  known  which  house  in  the  town  is  the  oldest.  The  so-called 
slave-pen  was  built  (1840)  for  a  market,  and  so  used.  There  is  no  Huguenot 
cemetery. 


Later   Years.  121 

have  mustered,  and  after  them  Seminole  war  volunteers 
Confederates  and  Federals — has  been  transformed  into 
a  pleasure  park,  now  more  beautiful,  we  may  well  believe, 
than  even  in  the  palmy  days  when  famous  for  its 
orange  trees  of  marvelous  size  and  bearing.  Though 
the  shaft  of  masonry  erected  here  in  181 2  still  remains,  it 
is  itself  a  grim  monument  of  mutability,  for  its  inscription 
with  fine  irony  proclaims  the  eterna  memoria — the  eternal 
remembrance — of  a  political  constitution,  which  passed 
almost  immediately  away  and  left  no  impress  on  indi- 
viduals nor  governments.*  The  Spanish  market-and- 
pilot-house,  with  the  pilot-boats  drawn  up  on  the 
shore — for  there  was  no  walled  basin  in  those  times 
— was  long  ago  succeeded  by  another  market,  and 
that  in  turn  by  the  structure  now  used  for  a  music 
stand.  Northeast  of  the  plaza,  where  once  stood  the 
Spanish  guard-house,  with  stocks  and  pillory,  now  rises  a 


*  Charles  IV.  having  been  compelled  to  abdicate  the  Spanish  throne  in  favor  of 
Ferdinand  VII,,  Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  called  upon  to  arbitrate  between  them. 
He  extorted  from  both  a  resignation  of  their  claims,  and  placed  his  own  brother, 
Joseph  Napoleon,  on  the  throne  (1808).  An  insurrection  of  the  Spanish  people 
followed.  The  French  troops  were  employed  to  support  Napoleon,  and  England, 
recognizing  the  claims  of  Ferdinand  VII.,  aided  the  cause  of  the  insurgents.  In 
1812,  the  Spanish  Cortes  (the  legislative  body  representing  the  insurgents)  com- 
pleted the  formation  of  a  new  and  liberal  constitution.  In  commemoration  of  this, 
monuments  were  erected  in  Spain  and  the  Spanish  provinces.  Among  others  was 
this  one  in  the  province  of  Florida,  the  square  then  taking  the  name  Plaza  de  la 
Constitucion.  Finally,  in  18 14,  the  war  for  independence  was  brought  to  a  suc- 
cessful termination;  and  Ferdinand  VII.,  having  pledged  himself  to  support  the 
new  constitution,  was  recalled  to  the  throne .  Once  in  power,  almost  his  first  act 
was  to  repudiate  the  new  constitution  and  declare  it  null  and  void.  Throughout 
Spain  and  her  American  dependencies  it  was  commanded  that  the  monuments 
erected  two  years  previously  in  commemoration  of  the  constitution,  should  be 
destroyed.  Notwithstanding  the  royal  decree,  this  one  in  Florida  was  not  torn 
down.  The  tablets  were  removed,  but  four  years  later  (1818)  were  restored  to 
their  places,  where  they  hav«  remained  ever  since. 


122  Old  St,  Augustine. 

modern  hotel.  At  the  head  of  the  same  square,  where 
the  lattice  gate  led  through  the  high  wall  to  the  convent 
beyond,  a  glass  door  now  opens  into  a  shop,  where  Yan- 
kee notions  are  on  sale.  Further  down  St.  George 
street,  the  smart  picket  fence  of  a  hotel  yard  has  sup- 
planted the  pilastered  wall  of  that  famous  mansion,  which 
the  Spanish  treasurer  began  to  build  on  so  magnificent  a 
scale  that  the  Spanish  occupation  did  not  suffice  to  com- 
plete it.*  Even  the  pillars  of  the  city  gate,  which  next 
to  the  fort  are  the  chief  memorials  of  Old  St.  Augus- 
tine, have  barely  escaped  demolition  at  the  hand  of  the 
vandal;  for  once  upon  a  time,  a  contractor  was  assigned 
the  work  of  building  a  stone  causeway  from  the  gate,  in 
the  place  of  the  old  draw-bridge,  which  formerly  crossed 
the  ditch  at  that  point;  and  being  in  need  of  coquina,  this 
unworthy  workman,  laying  violent  hands  upon  what 
was  nearest,  began  to  tear  away  the  gateway  pillars. 
Compelled  to  restore  the  plundered  stone  to  its  place,  he 
botched  the  work,  and  in  the  clumsy  restoration  has  left 
an  enduring  monument  of  his  lazy  shiftlessness.  In  the 
march  of  improvement,  other  venerable  relics  of  the 
town's  ancient  defenses  have  fared  less  fortunately.  One 
of  the  picturesque  coquina  batteries,  with  its  quaint  and 
foreign  air,  a  monument  which  had  bravely  survived  the 
assaults  of  armed  foes,  the  changes  of  empire  and  the 
corroding  tooth  of  time,  and  which  should  have  been 
always  zealously  protected  by  an  intelligent  public  senti- 
ment, was  demolished  at  last,  that,  forsooth,  the  upper 


*  This  was  on  the  corner  of  St.  George  street  and  the  lane  called  Treasury 
street— a  corruption  of  the  Spanish  name,  which  signified  "the  stieet  where  the 
Treasurer  lives." 


Later  Years.  123 

windows  of  a  boarding-house  might  command  a  more 
extended  view. 

Such  is  the  spirit  of  the  age.  Down  with  the  old  Hnes. 
Let  them  no  longer  cumber  the  earth.  Time  has  leveled 
the  ramparts,  and  filled  the  ditch  with  the  blowing  sands. 
It  is  a  good  work — this  of  time;  and  we  will  do  our  own 
share,  too,  by  carting  off  the  earth  from  the  old  redoubts 
and  with  it  filling  in  building  lots  for  new  houses.  Why 
not  ?  The  defenses  fulfilled  their  mission  long  ago,  in 
those  days  when  the  jealous  Spaniard  built  them  to  repel 
intruders  from  his  domain;  but  in  these  later  years  we 
have  no  wish  to  keep  strangers  out;  whoever  will,  may 
come.  So  reasons  new  St.  Augustine,  carpenter's  saw  in 
one  hand,  paint  pot  in  the  other.  You  may  hear  it  in  the 
rumble  of  the  railroad  train  from  the  North,  whizzing  in 
through  the  lines,  where  once  the  sentinel's  sharp  chal- 
lenge halted  the  stranger  at  the  stockaded  defenses;  in 
the  shriek  of  the  locomotive  beyond  the  San  Sebas- 
tian, where  once  the  mellow  notes  of  the  bugle  told  the 
coming  of  the  mail;  and  in  the  clatter  of  omnibus  and 
hack  over  the  bridge,  where  once  the  toiling  rope-ferry 
crawled  from  shore  to  shore.  You  may  listen  to  its  tell- 
ing all  day  long  in  the  discordant  din  of  a  steam  saw- 
mill, on  the  site  where  once  the  sentinel's  alerta  passed 
along  the  line  and  angry  artillery  thundered;  and  you 
may  hear  it  again  at  night,  in  the  evening  melodies  of 
the  great  hotel,  by  whose  ambitious  turrets  the  frowning 
battlements  of  Fort  Marion — once  so  impressive  from 
the  harbor — have  been  dwarfed  and  belittled. 

So  the  old  has  passed  away;  and  by  shortsighted  van- 
dalism the  ancient  landmarks  have  been  leveled  with  the 


124  (^^d  -^V.  Augustine. 

ground;  but  with  the  destruction  of  these  moss-grown 
monuments  the  town's  three  centuries  have  not  been 
blotted  out,  nor  is  their  story  taken  away;  and  as  here 
and  there  the  remnants  of  some  venerable  wall  yet  endure, 
so  the  romance  of  the  Old  St.  Augustine  of  yesterday 
remains,  to  add  its  charm  to  those  of  the  fountains  and 
the  gardens,  the  waving  palms  and  the  perfumed  groves 
of  the  new  St.  Augustine  of  to-day. 


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XVIII. 
FORT    MARION. 

j]HEN  the  Spaniards  came  to  the  River  of  Dol- 
phins, in  1565,  they  converted  the  Indian  coun- 
cil house  of  Seloy  into  a  temporary  defense. 
This  was  succeeded  by  a  fort  of  logs,  the  Fort  San  Juan 
de  Pinos  taken  by  Drake;  and  this  in  turn  gave  way  to 
the  foundations  of  the  substantial  structure  of  stone 
which  is  still  standing.  After  a  century  of  toil  by  an 
army  of  troops,  bands  of  Indian  captives,  slaves,  con- 
victs and  exiles,  Fort  San  Marco  was  finally  completed 
in  1756.  So  great  was  the  expenditure  involved,  that  the 
Spanish  monarch — into  whose  coffers  the  rich  streams 
from  the  Indies  had  long  since  ceased  to  flow — exclaimed, 
when  told  of  its  cost,  that  the  curtains  and  bastions  must 
have  been  built  of  solid  silver  dollars. 

The  fortification  is  a  regular  polygon,  of  four  equal 
curtains  and  four  equal  bastions.  It  is  surrounded  by  a 
moat,  and  is  defended  on  the  east  by  a  water  battery,  and 
on  the  other  three  sides  by  a  glacis.  The  sally-port,  on 
the  south,  is  further  protected  by  a  barbacan  or  demilune. 
The  sally-port  was  reached  by  a  stationary  bridge  extend- 


126 


Old  St  Augustine. 


ing  partially  across  the  moat,  and  then  by  a  draw-bridge.* 
The  material  of  which  the  fort  is  constructed  is  a  soft 
shell  concretion,  called  coquina.     It  was  quarried  on  the 


NORTH 


*  From  the  crest  of  the  artificial  hill  of  earth  (the  glacis)  a  bridge  (i),  formerly 
draw-bridge,  leads  across  moat  to  barbacan.  On  the  barbacan  at  the  stairway  (2) 
are  the  arms  of  Spain.  A  bridge  (3),  formerly  a  draw-bridge,  leads  to  sally-port 
(4),  where  was  a  heavy  door  (portcullis).  The  escutcheon  above  bears  arms  of 
Spain ;  the  Spanish  legend,  now  partially  obliterated,  set  forth  that  *'Don  Fer- 
dinand the  VI.,  being  King  of  Spain,  and  the  Field  Marshal  Don  Alonzo  Fernando 
Hereda,  being  Governor  and  Captain  General  of  this  place,  San  Augustin  of 
Florida,  and  its  province,  this  Fort  was  finished  in  the  year  1756.  The  works  were 
directed  by  the  Captain  Engineer,  Don  Pedro  de  Brozas  y  Garay."  Within,  on 
right  of  entrance  (5),  are  bake-room  (6)  and  two  dark  chambers  (7,  8) ;  on  left  is  the 


Fort  Marion.  127 

island  opposite  the  town;  and  being  of  a  spongy,  elastic 
composition,  was  well  adapted  to  withstand  a  bombard- 
ment from  such  artillery  as  was  used  a  hundred  years  ago. 

guard-room  (7)  and  officers'  room  (7).  Around  the  court  are  casemates  (10)  some 
formerly  having  upper  rooms.  The  windows  (embrasures)  are  high  up  near  the 
arched  ceilings.  From  first  east  casemate  a  door  leads  into  dark  chamber  (9). 
From  casemate  11  entrance  is  had  to  a  dark  chamber  (12),  thence  by  narrow 
passage  through  wall  5  feet  thick  into  a  space  5  feet  wide  ;  and  by  a  low  aperture 
a  feet  square  through  another  wall  5  feet  thick,  into  an  innermost  chamber  (14), 
19^x13^  feet  and  8  feet  high,  with  arched  roof  of  solid  masonry.  This  was 
perhaps  a  powder-magazine  or  bomb-proof.  It  is  probable  that :  when  the 
water  percolated  down,  this  chamber  became  damp  and  unwholesome,  fell 
into  disuse,  beeame  a  receptacle  for  rubbish,  bred  fevers,  and  was  finally,  as 
a  sanitary  measure,  walled  up.  The  entrance  from  the  chamber  (12)  was  closed 
by  the  Spaniards  shortly  before  Florida  was  ceded  to  the  United  States.  [This  is 
on  authority  of  Mr.  Cristobal  Bravo,  who  then,  a  boy,  was  employed  in  the 
fort.]  In  the  chapel  (15)  the  altar  and  niches  still  remain.  Outside,  over  entrance 
is  a  memorial  tablet  set  in  wall  by  the  French  astronomers  who  here  observed 
the  transit  of  Venus.  16  is  a  dark  room.  Casemate  loa  was  used  as  the  treasury. 
In  loc  Coacoochee  was  confined.  The  court  is  103x109  feet.  Cannon  were  rolled 
up  the  inclined  plane  (now  worn  into  resemblance  of  a  stairway)  to  platform  (terre- 
plein)  of  ramparts.  At  outer  angle  of  each  bastion  (B)  was  a  sentry-box  (W). 
That  on  northeast  was  also  a  watch-tower  (25  feet  high).  The  one  on  northwest  is 
fallen.  Distance  from  watch-tower  to  watch-tower,  317  feet.  The  curtains  (walls 
extending  from  bastion  to  bastion)  and  the  bastion  walls  are  9  feet  thick  at  base, 
4^  at  top,  and  25  feet  high  above  present  moat  level.  The  moat,  40  feet  wide, 
formerly  deeper  than  now,  with  concrete  floor,  was  kept  scrupulously  clean,  and 
flooded  at  high  tide  from  the  river.  The  narrower  level  space  beyond  the  moat  is 
the  covered  way;  and  the  wider  levels  are  the  places-of-arms.  The  troops,  who 
gathered  here  to  repel  assault,  were  defended  by  the  outer  wall  (parapet),  from 
which  the  great  embankment  of  earth  (the  glacis)  slopes.  The  stone  water- 
battery  on  the  east  was  rebuilt  in  1842.  The  hot  shot  furnace,  in  front  of  east 
curtain,  was  built  in  1844.  The  last  use  of  the  cannon,  mounted  at  the  water- 
battery,  was  for  quarantine.  When  a  vessel  arrived,  a  blank  charge  was  fired  as  a 
signal  for  it  to  anchor,  that  the  health  officer  of  the  port  might  go  out  to  inspect  it. 
The  last  historic  shot  from  Fort  Marion  was  from  one  of  these  guns.  It  was  in 
1867,  A  little  schooner,  built  in  St.  Augustine  and  launched  from  the  sea-wall,  had 
been  named  in  honor  of  the  commandant  of  the  post.  Colonel  John  T.  Sprague. 
From  the  initial  trip  the  schooner  arrived  off"  the  bar  one  Sunday  morning.  The 
people  on  their  way  to  church  heard  the  quarantine  gun  ;  and  soon  after  the  town 
was  thrown  into  excitement  by  the  screech  of  a  cannon  ball.  It  subsequently  tran- 
spired that  the  captain,  unmindful  of  quarantine  regulations,  had  taken  the  first 
shot  for  a  salute  to  his  be-Coloneled  schooner ;  and  with  all  his  bunting  flung 
to  the  breeze,  he  sailed  grandly  on.  But  of  the  shot  across  his  bows  there  could 
be  no  mistaking  the  intent.  The  captain  of  the  Colonel  John  T  Sj^rague 
promptly  lowered  sail  and  let  go  the  anchor,  but  struck  his  colors  never. 


128  Old  St.  Augustine, 

How  conspicuous  was  the  part  taken  by  the  fort  in 
deciding  the  fortunes  of  Florida  and  of  North  America, 
has  been  already  told;  but  still  more  romantic  than  the 
record  of  sieges  and  political  mutations,  would  be  the 
story  of  those  who  from  time  to  time  and  on  one  pretext 
or  another  have  been  confined  within  its  walls.  Here 
and  there,  in  the  chronicles  of  the  fitful  years  of  conflict 
between  Spanish  Florida  and  the  British  colonies,  we  may 
catch  glimpses  of  such  prisoners — now  an  English  mother 
brought  here  by  savage  Yemassee  ;*  again,  English 
seamen  taken  by  Spanish  galleys;  and  then,  the  High- 
landers surprised  in  Fort   Moosa  by  nocturnal  sortie,  f 


*  While  the  colony  was  thus  harassed  with  fears  and  troubles  and  rigorous 
landlords  to  enhance  their  misery,  their  savage  neighbors  were  also  now  and  then 
making  incursions  into  their  settlements,  and  spreading  havoc  among  the  scattered 
families.  At  this  time  a  scalping  party  penetrated  as  far  as  the  Euhah  lands, 
where,  having  surprised  John  Levit  and  two  of  his  neighbors,  they  knocked  out 
their  brains  with  their  tomahawks.  They  then  seized  Mrs.  Barrows  and  one  of 
her  children  and  carried  them  oflf  with  them.  The  child  by  the  way  finding  him- 
self in  barbarous  hands,  began  to  cry,  upon  which  they  put  him  to  death.  The 
distressed  mother  being  unable  to  refrain  from  tears,  while  her  child  was  murdered 
before  her  eyes,  was  given  to  understand  that  she  must  not  weep,  if  she  desi.ed 
not  to  share  the  same  fate.  Upon  her  arrival  at  Augustine,  she  would  have  been 
immediately  sent  to  prison,  but  one  of  the  Yamassee  kings  declared  that  he  knew 
her  from  her  infancy  to  be  a  good  woman,  interceded  for  her  liberty  and  begged 
she  might  be  sent  home  to  her  husband.  This  favor,  however,  the  Spanish  Gov- 
ernor refused  to  grant ;  and  the  garrison  seemed  to  triumph  with  the  Indians  in 
the  number  of  their  scalps.  When  Mr.  Barrows  went  to  Augustine  to  procure  the 
release  of  his  wife,  he  also  was  shut  up  in  prison  along  with  her,  where  he  soon 
after  died,  but  she  survived  all  the  hardships  of  hunger,  sickness,  and  confine- 
ment to  give  a  relation  of  her  barbarous  treatment.  After  her  return  to  Carolina 
she  reported  to  Governor  Johnson  that  the  Huspah  king  who  had  taken  her 
prisoner  and  carried  her  off  informed  her  he  had  orders  from  the  Spanish  Gov- 
ernor to  spare  no  white  man,  but  to  bring  every  negro  alive  to  Augustine,  and 
that  rewards  were  given  to  Indians  for  their  prisoners  to  encourage  them  to  engage 
in  such  rapacious  and  murderous  enterprises.— //ir«/»V'jr  South  Carolina. 

t  During  the  siege  by  Oglethorpe,  in  a  night  attack  by  the  Spaniards  on  Fort 
Moosa,  twenty  Highlanders  were  taken  and  brought  into  the  fort,  where  they  wer« 
kept  in  close  confinement  three  months. 


Fort  Marion,  129 

In  Revolutionary  times  the  fort  was  used  for  the  impris- 
onment of  Patriots  from  Charleston,*  of  crews  of  ships 
taken  by  privateers  from  St.  Augustine,  and  of  Georgians 
who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  McGirth*s  men.  In 
subsequent  years,  when  the  Spaniards  had  come  again, 
McGirth  himself  heard  the  clank  of  the  prison  bars 
behind  him,  and  through  five  slow  years  of  darkness 
lingered  in  the  cell  known  long  afterward  as  "McGirth's 
dungeon. "f  Then  came,  victim  of  Spanish  rancor.  Gen- 
eral Mcintosh,  for  whose  release  a  sightless  wife  made 
unavailing  plea,  in  letters  of  such  pathetic  eloquence  that, 
though  they  did  not  melt  the  obdurate  heart  of  the  Span- 


*  At  one  of  the  Sabbath  services  held  by  the  paroled  Patriots  in  St.  Augustine, 
the  minister,  Rev.  John  Lewis,  preached  a  discoCirse  which  so  enraged  Governor 
Tonyn  that  he  shut  up  the  Charleston  clergyman  in  the  fort.    After  that,  if  the 
Patriots  wished  to  attend  service,  they  were  compelled  to  go  to  the  Parish  Church 
and  hear  prayers  oflfered  for  George  the  Fourth.  {Garden  s  A  necdotes  of  A  tnerican 
Revolution).    They  were   permitted  to  write  home,  upon  condition  that  they 
should  communicate  nothing  about  the  state  of  afifairs  in  St.  Augustine.    One  of 
them,  detected  in  a  violation  of  this  rule,  was  arrested  and  confined  in  the  fort. 
In  one  of  the  long,  dreary  hours  of  solitary  confinement,  he  wrote  on  his  prison 
walls  the  following  reflection  on  the  vain  glories  of  the  world — 
'*  Life  is  a  vapour,  man  needs  repose. 
He  glories  but  a  moment,  down  he  goes." 
A  British  officer,  to  show  his  wit,  wrote  under  it — 

" is  a  bubble,  as  his  scribbling  shows, 

He  cuts  a  caper,  and  then  up  he  goes  ," 
with  a  finger  pointing  at  a  man  suspended  on  a  gallows.  {Johnson' s Reminiscences 
0/  thi  A  merican  Revolution^  General  Christopher  Gadsden  was  confined  in  a 
dark  dungeon,  and  for  a  long  time  was  denied  a  light,  i  inally  he  was  permitted  to 
have  a  candle  ;  and  then,  to  while  away  the  time,  engaged  in  the  study  of 
Hebrew.    How  he  was  threatened  with  death  has  been  told  in  a  previous  chapter. 

t  When  Florida  was  reconveyed  to  the  Spaniards  by  the  treaty  of  peace,  he 
[McGirth]  became  subject  to  their  laws,  and  on  account  of  suspicious  conduct  was 
arrested  and  confined  by  them  five  years  in  one  of  their  damp  dungeons  in 
the  Castle  of  St.  Augustine,  where  his  health  was  totally  destroyed.  When  dis- 
charged from  St.  Augustine,  he,  with  much  difficulty,  returned  to  his  wife  in 
Sumter  District,  S.  C,  where  he  ended  his  X\it,^Johnson  s  Rtminisances  o/tht 
American  Revolution. 
9 


1 30  Old  St.  Augustine. 

ish  Governor,  one  may  not  to-day  read  them  unmoved.* 
Finally,  the  fort,  which  in  its  first  rude  form  had  barely 
sufficed  for  a  defense  against  the  Indian,  and  which  in 
its  prime  had  served  for  the  incarceration  of  the  refrac- 
tory savage  leaders,  became  in  its  decay  a  prison-house 
for  the  betrayed  chiefs  of  that  waning  race.  To-day, 
they  show  you  the  casemate  called  "Coacoochee's  cell," 
and  point  to  the  narrow  embrasure  high  in  the  wall 
through  which  the  Seminole  made  his  way  to  liberty,  f 
Then,  to  the  tale  of  the  Indian  warrior's  captivity  and 
escape,  will  be  added  the  story  how,  forty  years  after- 
wards, the  court  and  casemates  and  ramparts  of  the  fort 


*  Ten  years  after  the  close  of  the  Revolution  General  John  Mcintosh  settled  on 
the  St.  John's,  and  was  making  improvements  on  the  south  bank  of  that  beautiful 
river,  when,  on  going  to  St.  Augustine,  as  usual,  he  was  roused  from  his  bed,  at 
midnight,  by  a  band  of  Spanish  troops,  accompanied  by  the  Governor  in  disguise, 
Juan  Nepomuceno  de  Quesada,  with  whom  he  had  been  on  friendly  terms,  and  by 
him  was  imprisoned  in  the  fortress  of  St.  Augustine.  *  ♦  ♦  *  While  he  remained 
in  prison  all  intercourse  with  his  distressed  family  and  friends  was  interdicted,  and 
by  the  first  opportunity  he  was  shipped  under  a  strong  guard,  as  a  prisoner  of 
State,  to  the  Captain-General  of  Cuba,  and  by  him  incarcerated  in  the  Moro 
Castle  of  Havana.  After  nearly  a  year's  imprisonment  he  was  released,  no 
charge  having  been  presented  against  him. —  White's  Historical  Collections. 

t  Following  is  Coacoochee's  account  of  his  escape  with  his  companion,  Talmus 
Hadjo : — *'  We  had  been  growing  sickly  from  day  to  day,  and  so  resolved  to  make 
our  escape,  or  die  in  the  attempt.  We  were  in  a  room,  eighteen  or  twenty  feet 
square.  All  the  light  admitted  was  through  a  hole  [embrasure],  about  eighteen 
feet  from  the  floor.  Through  this  we  must  effect  our  escape,  or  remain  and  die 
with  sickness.  A  sentinel  was  constantly  posted  at  the  door.  As  we  looked  at  it 
from  our  beds,  we  thought  it  small,  but  believed  that,  could  we  get  our  heads 
through,  we  should  have  no  further  nor  serious  difficulty.  To  reach  the  hole  was 
the  first  object.  In  order  to  effect  this,  we  from  time  to  time  cut  up  the  forage- 
bags  allowed  us  to  sleep  on,  and  made  them  into  ropes.  The  hole  I  could  not 
reach  when  upon  the  shoulder  of  my  companion;  but  while  standing  upon  his 
shoulder,  I  worked  a  knife  into  a  crevice  of  the  stone  work,  as  far  up  as  I  could 
reach,  and  upon  this  I  raised  myself  to  the  aperture,  when  I  found  that,  with  some 
reduction  of  person,  I  could  get  through.  In  order  to  reduce  ourselves  as  much 
as  possible,  we  took  medicine  five  days.  Under  the  pretext  of  being  very  sick,  we 
were  permitted  to  obtain  the  roots  we  required.    For  some  weeks  we  watched  the 


wt 


Fort  Marion.  131 

bustled  with  the  throngs  of  the  Comanches,  Kiowas  and 
Cheyennes,  gathered  here  from  the  West  to  learn  in  St. 
Augustine  the  arts  of  civilization  and  the  ways  of  peace. 

moon,  in  order  that  the  night  of  our  attempt  it  should  be  as  dark  as  possible.  At 
the  proper  time  we  commenced  the  medicine,  calculating  upon  the  entire  disap- 
pearance of  the  moon.  The  keeper  of  this  prison,  on  the  night  determined  upon 
to  make  the  effort,  annoyed  us  by  frequently  coming  into  the  room,  and  talking 
and  singing.  At  first  we  thought  of  tying  him  and  putting  bis  head  in  a  bag  ;  so 
that,  should  he  call  for  assistance,  he  could  not  be  heard.  We  first,  however,  tried 
the  experiment  of  pretending  to  be  asleep,  and  when  he  returned  to  pay  no  regard 
to  him.  This  accomplished  our  object.  He  came  in,  and  went  immediately  out; 
and  we  could  hear  him  snore  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  door.  I  then  took 
the  rope,  which  we  had  secreted  under  our  bed,  and  mounting  upon  the  shoulder 
of  my  comrade,  raised  myself  upon  the  knife  worked  into  the  crevices  of  the 
stone,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  embrasure.  Here  I  made  fast  the  rope,  that 
my  friend  might  follow  me.  I  then  passed  through  the  hole  a  sufficient  length  of 
it  to  reach  the  ground  upon  the  outside  (about  25  feet)  in  the  ditch.  I  had  cal- 
culated the  distance  when  going  for  roots.  With  much  difficulty  I  succeeded  in 
getting  my  head  through ;  for  the  sharp  stones  took  the  skin  off  my  breast  and 
back.  Putting  my  head  through  first,  I  was  obliged  to  go  down  head-foremost, 
until  my  feet  were  through,  fearing  every  moment  the  rope  would  break.  At  last, 
safely  on  the  ground,  I  awaited  with  anxiety  the  arrival  of  my  comrade.  I  had 
passed  another  rope  through  the  hole,  which,  in  the  event  of  discovery,  Talmus 
Hadjo  was  to  pull,  as  a  signal  to  me  upon  the  outside,  that  he  was  discovered,  and 
could  not  come.  As  soon  as  I  struck  the  ground  I  took  hold  of  the  signal,  for  intell- 
igence from  my  friend.  The  night  was  very  dark.  Two  men  passed  near  me, 
talking  earnestly,  and  I  could  see  them  distinctly.  Soon  I  heard  the  struggle  of 
my  companion  far  above  me.  He  had  succeeded  in  getting  his  head  through,  but 
his  body  would  come  no  farther.  In  the  lowest  tone  of  voice,  I  urged  him  to 
throw  cut  his  breath,  and  then  try  ;  soon  after,  he  came  tumbling  down  the  whole 
distance.  For  a  few  moments  I  thought  him  dead.  I  dragged  him  to  some  water 
close  by,  which  restored  him  ;  but  his  leg  was  so  lame  he  was  unable  to  walk.  I 
took  him  upon  my  shoulder  to  a  scrub,  near  the  town.  Daylight  was  just  break- 
ing ;  it  was  evident  we  must  move  rapidly.  I  caught  a  mule  in  the  adjoining 
field,  and  making  a  bridle  out  of  my  sash,  mounted  my  companion,  and  started  for 
the  St.  John's  River.  The  mule  we  used  one  day,  but  fearing  the  whites  would 
track  us,  we  felt  more  secure  on  foot  in  the  hammock,  though  moving  very  slow. 
Thus  we  continued  our  journey  five  days,  subsisting  upon  roots  and  berries,  when 
I  joined  my  band,  then  assembled  on  the  headwaters  of  the  Tomoka  River,  near 
the  Atlantic  coast.  I  gave  my  warriors  the  history  of  my  capture  and  escape, 
and  assured  them  that  they  should  be  satisfied  that  my  capture  was  no  trick  of  my 
own,  and  that  I  would  not  deceive  them.  When  I  came  in  to  St.  Augustine,  to 
see  my  father,  I  took  the  word  of  friends  j  they  said  I  should  return,  but  they 
cheated  me.  When  I  was  taken  prisoner,  my  band  was  inclined  to  leave  the 
country,  but  upon  my  return  they  said,  let  us  all  die  in  Florida," — Coacoochct's 
Narration^  in  Spr ague's  Florida  War, 


132  Old  St,  Augustine, 

The  fort,  called  by  the  Spaniards  San  Juan  de  Pinos, 
San  Augustin,  and  San  Marco,  and  by  the  English  St. 
Mark's,  having  come  into  the  possession  of  the  United 
States,  was  named  (in  1825)  Fort  Marion,  after  General 
Francis  Marion,  of  Revolutionary  fame.  Writing  from 
St.  Augustine,  in  1842,  William  Cullen  Bryant  criticised 
this  as  "a  foolish  change  of  name."  But  why  foolish  ? 
If  Moultrie  is  thus  honored,  and  Sumter  the  "Game 
Cock,'*  why  not  Marion  the  "Swamp  Fox  ?"  Is  it  not 
the  veriest  romance  of  history  that  the  Spanish  fortress 
planted  here  by  Menendez,  the  hunter  of  French  Hugue- 
nots, should  at  last  yield  up  its  saintly  name,  for  that  of 
a  hero  in  whose  veins  flowed  the  blood  of  other  Huguenot 
exiles?  And  is  it  not  the  final  justice  of  time  that  the 
British  stronghold,  within  whose  dungeons  rebellious 
Patriots  were  immured,  should  receive,  from  the  nation 
which  those  prisoners  helped  to  establish,  the  honored 
name  of  one,  who  endured  with  them  the  perils  and 
privations  of  its  cause,  and  won  with  them  the  final 
glorious  triumph  ? 

Some  years  after  the  fort  came  into  the  possession  of 
the  United  States,  a  portion  of  the  northeast  terreplein 
fell  in,  and  disclosed  a  series  of  walled  up  chambers. 
Tradition  has  it  that  in  these  chambers  certain  remains 
were  found,  which  were  supposed,  by  the  more  imagina- 
tive, to  be  relics  of  cruel  imprisonment  and  of  the  reign 
of  the  Spanish  Inquisition.  This  tale  of  the  bones  in  the 
dungeon  was  formerly  received  with  the  eager  credence 
that  the  early  explorers  gave  to  the  rumors  of  gold  mines 
in  Florida;  but  in  later  years,  although  the  makers  of 
sensational  guide  books  cling  tenaciously  to  the  dungeon 


Fort  Marion.  133 

relics,  skeptics  have  arisen,  who  deny  the  truth  of  the 
story.  They  probably  are  right.  It  is  of  no  moment. 
The  fault  lies  not  in  the  story  of  St.  Augustine's  three 
centuries,  but  in  its  telling,  if  the  chapters  of  this 
book  have  not  shown  that  the  romance  investing  Fort 
Marion  does  not  center  about  the  alleged  discovery  of 
human  bones  in  its  walled-up  chambers,  and  needs  not 
to  be  groped  for  with  a  torch  in  subterranean  passages. 
The  incident  even  if  true  might  well  be  spared.  Who 
thinks  otherwise,  has  strangely  misread  the  history  of 
the  changing  fortunes  which  transformed  the  Indian 
council  house  into  the  fort  of  logs,  and  have  converted 
Spain's  proudly  equipped  fortress  into  this  massive  pile 
of  crumbling  masonry. 

Recall  the  days  when  San  Juan  de  Pinos  was  the  de- 
fense of  the  half-starved  Spanish  garrison;  and  when  of 
those  huddled  within  its  stockades,  one  and  other  braver 
than  the  rest,  ventured  out  beyond  the  lines  for  fish  or 
game,  and  falling  before  the  blow  of  the  lurking  savage, 
came  never  again.  Remember  those  long  years  of  misery, 
when  Indian  slave,  English  prisoner  and  Spanish  convict 
labored  beneath  the  lash  of  the  driver,  and  with  burden- 
some toil  and  suffering  unspeakable  builded  their  very 
lives  into  these  coquina  bastions.  Replace  the  heavy  iron 
gratings  of  casemate  and  cell;  send  home  the  clanging 
bolt  and  bar;  listen  to  the  piteous  pleading  of  husband 
for  imprisoned  wife  and  of  wife  for  imprisoned  husband, 
and  hear  the  shutting  to  of  doors  upon  manacled  wretches, 
who  from  the  gloom  of  that  inner  darkness  shall  never 
emerge  to  look  upon  the  sun.  Light  again  in  the  dim 
chapel  the  ever-burning  lamp  before  the  tabernacle;  restore 


134  Old  St.  Augustine. 

to  the  niches  their  images,  its  cloth  to  the  altar,  the  water 
to  the  font;  and  bring  back  the  pageantry  of  cere- 
monial rites,  chant  of  mass  and  murmur  of  confessional. 
Remember  those  momentous  days,  when  Castle  San 
Marco — standing  here  for  the  very  maintenance  of  Spain 
in  North  America — bore  the  brunt  of  well  concerted 
assault.  Build  anew  the  shattered  defenses;  flood  the 
moat;  raise  the  draw-bridge  let  fall  the  portcullis;  mount 
the  guard;  fling  bravely  out  from  the  rampart  the  banner 
of  Castile;  and  let  the  artillery  belch  angry  defiance 
of  the  hosts  under  the  Red  Cross.  Hear  the  sharp  word 
of  command,  the  tread  of  battalions,  the  rattle  of  volley 
and  the  screech  of  cannon  ball.  Look  out,  with  the 
famishing  women  and  children,  over  the  bay  and  beyond 
the  camps  of  the  besiegers  on  Anastatia,  and  scan  the 
sea  in  vain  for  the  coming  of  a  friendly  fleet;  after  the 
weeks  of  famine,  hear  at  last,  in  the  night,  the  shouts  of 
rescuers,  and  then,  the  lessening  drum  beat  of  the  de- 
parting British.  Or,  since  you  are  an  American,  recall 
again  those  later  years,  when  the  soldiers  of  George  the 
Fourth  guarded  Fort  St.  Marks  and  imprisoned  Patriots 
languished  in  its  cells;  and  keeping  weary  vigil  with 
the  white-haired  Gadsden,  let  your  patriotism  kindle  and 
in  the  damp-walled  dungeon  take  on  a  brighter  glow. 
So  review  all  the  stirring  chronicle — 

Of  sallies  and  retires,  of  trenches,  tents, 

Of  palisadoes,  frontiers,  parapets; 

Of  basilisks,  of  cannon,  culverin, 

Of  prisoners  ransom'd,  and  of  soldiers  slain, 

And  all  the  'currents  of  a  heady  fight — 

and  then  may  be  known  something  of  that  story — which 


Fort  Marion.  135 

in  truth  is  worthy  to  be  known — of  Fort  Marion  in  St. 
Augustine. 

A  record  more  eloquent  still  have  these  gray  walls  for 
him  who  will  listen  to  the  telling — the  wonderful  story  of 
the  changes  that  have  taken  place  since  the  fort  was 
established  here  on  the  coast  of  North  America,  for 
Spain's  menace  to  the  world.  Its  age  must  be  reckoned 
not  by  decades  but  by  revolutions;  not  by  centuries  but 
by  changes  on  the  map  of  the  world,  the  going  out  of 
ancient  empires,  and  the  blazing  forth  of  new.  It  is  a  long 
span  from  1565  to  1885,  but  a  longer  one  still  from  the 
Sixteenth  century  to  the  Nineteenth — from  the  Massacre 
of  Jean  Ribault  to  the  tercentenary  of  Martin  Luther — 
from  Spain,  whose  knights  led  the  way  in  the  con- 
quest of  a  world,  to  Spain  fallen  behind  in  the  onward 
march  of  the  nations — from  the  wilderness  of  unexplored 
Terra  Florida  to  the  populous  North  America  of  to-day. 
The  Spanish  fortress  has  seen  one  band  of  intruders  after 
another  set  foot  upon  the  shores  of  the  continent  it  was 
appointed  to  defend;  and  powerless  to  withstand  their 
swelling  hosts,  it  has  seen  these  colonies  gather  strength, 
unite  for  revolution,  achieve  independence,  expand  into 
a  nation  of  thirty-eight  states,  and  fifty  millions  strong 
stretch  out  over  mountain  and  prairie,  across  the  conti- 
nent, to  the  very  shore  of  the  Great  Unknown  Sea.  The 
band  of  twenty  African  slaves  brought  to  Seloy  it  has 
seen  grow  to  4,000,000  of  bondsmen;  it  has  seen,  for  their 
emancipation,  a  nation  plunged  into  civil  war;  and  has 
looked  on — as  a  world  looked  on — to  see  that  nation  from 
the  strife  come  forth  again  unbroken,  with  its  bands  of 
union  welded  in  the  furnace  more  firmly  together. 


136  Old  St  Augustine. 

Amid  its  garish  surroundings  the  old  fort  stands  to-day. 
Its  outlines  are  softened  by  the  elements;  its  moat  is 
choked  with  the  drifting  sands;  its  turrets  are  crumb- 
ling; its  walls  seamed  with  the  ravages  of  decay.  The 
fig  tree  springs  out  from  the  rents  in  its  curtains;  tiny 
flowers  peep  up  from  the  rampart;  and  summer  grasses 
clothe  the  escarpment  with  their  luxuriant  growth — Time's 
banner  of  peace  on  the  outer  wall.  Draw-bridge  and 
portcullis  long  ago  disappeared  from  the  sally-port;  the 
legend  on  the  escutcheon  we  may  no  longer  read;  nor 
ascend  the  inclined  plane  to  the  ramparts.  Gratings 
have  given  place  to  window  panes;  ponderous  doors 
have  been  demolished;  sunlight  has  been  let  into  the 
dungeons.  Stalactites  depend  from  the  casemate  ceilings; 
parti-colored  moss  and  mould  bedeck  the  damp  walls; 
owls  nest  in  the  crannies. 

Crossing  the  wooden  bridge  which  spans  the  moat  and 
stretches  over  the  centuries,  you  may  leave  behind  the  St. 
Augustine  of  to-day,  and  in  court,  casemate  and  dungeon, 
summon  once  more  the  shadowy  forms  of  mailed  warrior, 
manacled  captive  and  dark-robed  priest.  As,  lost  in 
revery,  you  muse  on  the  ramparts,  the  pleasure  fleet 
vanishes  from  the  bay  and  a  phantom  sail  looms  up  in 
the  offing;  and  as  you  look,  the  strains  of  the  distant 
band  on  the  plaza  die  away  amid  Spanish  cries  of  alarm; 
and  you  catch  the  melody,  now  faint  and  indistinct,  then 
shrill  and  clear,  of  the  Frenchman  in  his  little  boat, 
"playing  on  his  Phyph  the  tune  of  the  Prince  of  Orange 
his  song." 


IN    BRIEF. 

15 12.  Spanish  Expedition,  Ponce  de  Leon. 

1528.  Disastrous  Spanish  Expedition,  Pamphilo  de  Narvaez. 

1539.  Disastrous  Spanish  Expedition,  Ferdinand  de  Soto. 

1562.  French  Protestants,  under  Ribault,  come  to  Florida.     From 

River  of  May  sail  north.     Establish  Charles-Fort  at  Port 
Royal  Inlet. 

1563.  Charles-Fort  abandoned. 

1564.  Second  company  of  French  Protestants,  under  Laudonni^re, 

come  to  Seloy.    Establish  Fort  Caroline  on  the  River  of  May. 

1565.  Ribault  arrires  with  reinforcements  for  Fort  Caroline,     Men- 

endcz  founds  San  Augustin.     Fort  Caroline  taken.     The 

shipwrecked  Frenchmen  massacred. 
1568.     De  Gourgues  destroys  the  Spanish  forts. 
1586.     Drake  sacks  San  Augustin. 
1597.     Massacre  of  Franciscans. 
1665.     Davis  sacks  San  Augustin. 
1702.     Siege  by  Moore,  of  Carolina. 
1740.     Siege  by  Oglethorpe,  of  Georgia. 
1742.     Expedition  against  Georgia. 
1763.     Florida  ceded  to  Great  Britain. 
1769.     Minorcans  arrive  at  New  Smyrna. 
1775.     Minorcans  come  to  St.  Augustine. 
1783.     Florida  retroceded  to  Spain. 
1821.     Florida  ceded  to  United  States. 
1835.     Seminole  War  begun. 
1842.     Seminole  War  ended. 
1845.     Florida  admitted  to  the  Union. 

St.  Augustine  is  the  oldest  town  on  the  continent,  north  of  Mexico. 
The  date  of  its  establishment  (1565)  was  17  years  earlier  than  the 
Spaniards  settled  Santa  Fe  in  New  Mexico  (1582),  20  years  earlier 
than  Raleigh's  unsuccessful  settlement  at  Roanoke  Island  (1585),  40 
years  earlier  than  the  French  in  Nova  Scotia  (1605),  42  earlier  than 
the  London  Company  at  Jamestown  (1607),  43  years  earlier  than 
Champlain  at  Quebec  (1608),  49  years  earlier  than  the  Dutch  at 
New  Amsterdam  (1614),  and  55  years  earlier  than  the  Puritans  at 
Plymouth  Rock  (1620). 


Postscript  to  the  Fourth  Edition. 

QINCE  the  foregoing  chapters  were  written,  Fort  Marion  has  been 
put  in  repair  by  the  War  Department.  The  cathedral  (page  120), 
the  market  in  the  plaza  (page  120),  and  the  St.  Augustine  Hotel 
(page  122)  were  destroyed  by  fire  in  April,  1887.  The  date  palm 
tree  (illustration  page  83)  was  killed  by  the  freeze  of  January,  1886. 

The  material  alterations  of  the  town,  alluded  to  in  Chapter  XVII., 
have  progressed  with  accelerated  pace.  The  coquina  stone  has  been 
supplanted  as  a  building  material  by  an  artificial  concrete,  which  was 
invented  by  Franklin  W.  Smith,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  and  first  used  by 
him  in  the  construction  of  the  Villa  Zorayda,  designed  by  him  as  an 
oriental  building,  of  Moorish  architecture,  appropriate  to  the  Florida 
climate.  His  success  having  demonstrated  the  adaptability  of  this 
new  material  for  such  purposes,  it  was  further  employed  by  Henry 
M.  Flagler,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  in  the  erection  of  the  magnificent 
and  sumptuous  Ponce  de  Leon.  The  Casa  Monica,  Alcazar  and 
other  concrete  buildings  of  less  note  have  followed.  These  innova- 
tions are  on  a  scale  of  great  magnitude,  and  are  of  most  substantial 
character.  They  mark  an  epoch  in  the  development  of  the  modern 
fashionable  winter  resort  which  h^s"  'been  reared  here  on  the  site 
of  Old  St.  Augustine. 
January,  1888. 


INDEX. 

Adams,  Samuel,  burned  in  effigy,  91. 
Amusements  in  Spanish  times,  105. 
Andre,  96. 
Apalatcy,  22. 

Balearic  Islands,  84. 

Barracks,  119. 

Bartram,  William,  63. 

Betsey ^  the  brig,  91-92. 

Black  drink,  16,  44. 

Boucaniers,  69;  the  name,  70;  attack  on  San  Augustin,  74. 

Browne,  Colonel  Thomas,  89,  92,  94. 

Bunker  Hill,  powder  from  St.  Augustine  used  in  battle  of,  91. 

Burgoigne,  Nicolas,  41,  58. 

Barrows,  Mrs.,  128. 

Camiyal  celebration,  105. 

Carolina  settled,  76. 

Cathedral,  120. 

Chain-gangs,  75,  103. 

Challeux,  31,  32-33. 

Charivari,  105. 

Cherokees  enlist  against  the  British,  78;  against  the  Colonies,  91, 

Chigoula,  22. 

City-gate,  103,  119,  122. 

Civil  war,  118. 

Coacoochee,  takes  up  arms  against  the  whites,  no;  meaning  of 
name,  no;  confined  in  Fort  Marion  and  escapes,  114;  talk  with 
General  Worth,  115;  imprisoned,  116;  his  tribe  to  surrender,  I16; 
transported  from  Florida,  117;  narrative   of  escape,  130. 

Colonel  John  T.  Sprague^  the  schooner,  127. 

Convent  lattice  gate,  122. 

Coquina,  126. 

Cortez,  tt. 


140  Index^ 

Council  house  of  Seloy,  16;  used  by  Spaniards  for  fortification,  25. 
Creeks  enlist  against  the  British,  78;  against  the  Colonies,  91. 
Cutter,  85-86. 
Cuzco,  22. 

Dade's  command  massacred,  iio-iii. 

Davis  takes  Granada,  73;  and  San  Augustin,  74. 

Declaration  of  Independence,  91. 

De  Gourgues,  organizes  expedition  against  the  Spaniards  in  Florida, 
43;  takes  the  small  forts  and  Fort  San  Mateo,  45-46;  hangs 
the  Spaniards,  47;  returns  to  France,  48;  death,  50. 

De  Veaux,  expedition  against  Nassau,  97-98. 

Drake,  takes  San  Domingo  and  Cartagena,  54;  sacks  San  Augustin, 
56-60;  takes  part  in  fight  against  Armada,  61. 

Drumming  out,  104. 

Dungeon  relics,  127,  132 

Easter  Eve,  106. 
Elizabeth  Bonaventura ,  56,  61. 
Emathla,  captured  114. 
English  colonists,  76-82. 
English  seamen,  51. 

Farragut,  Admiral,  90. 

Farragui,  George,  90. 

Fish,  his  grove  on  St  Anastatia  Island,  9G. 

Fleur-de-Lis,  14,  107. 

Florida,  early  Spanish  expeditions  in,  11;  Menendez  receives  a  com- 
mission  to  subdue,  12;  invaded  by  heretics,  13;  French  expedition 
to,  14;  the  name  embraced  all  of  North  America,  21;  supposed 
wealth  of,  22;  Menendez  takes  possession  of,  26;  proves  an  un- 
profitable possession,  49;  Franciscans  in,  62-68;  condition  of  pro- 
vince in  Eighteenth  century,  75;  invasions  by  British,  77,  79; 
ceded  to  England,  82;  remains  loyal  at  outbreak  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, 91;  prosperous  condition  of  at  close  of  Revolutionary  war, 
98-99;  retroceded  to  Spain,  99;  invaded  by  Americans,  106; 
ceded  to  the  United  States,  107;  Indians  removed  from,  109-117. 

Florida  Rangers,  89,  94,  95. 

Fort  Caroline,  building  of,  17;  name,  18;  taken  by  Menendez,  30-33; 
name  changed,  33;  (as  San  Mateo)  taken  by  De  Gourgues,  46. 


Index.  141 

Fort  Marion,  125-136;  completed  in  1756,  125;  plan  of,  126;  legend 
on  escutcheon,  126;  prisoners  in,  128-129;  alleged  dungeon  relics, 
133;  romance  of  its  history,  133. 

Fort  Picolata,  79 

Fort  Poppa,  79. 

Fort  San  Juan  de  Pinos,  60,  124. 

Fort  San  Marco,  75,  79-80,  125. 

Fort  San  Mateo,  named,  33;  taken  by  De  Gourgues,  46;  destroyed, 
47;  (rebuilt  and)  taken  by  Oglethorpe,  79. 

Fosse,  north  of  the  town,  103. 

Fountain  of  Youth,  23. 

Fourth  of  July  dinner,  97. 

Franciscans,  missions,  62;  massacre,  63-67;  abandon  Florida,  67. 

French  under  Laudonni^re  arrive  at  Seloy,  14;  establish  Fort  Caro- 
line, 17;  reinforcements  under  Ribault,  19;  sail  under  Ribault 
against  Spaniards,  29;  those  in  Fort  Caroline  routed  or  killed, 
32;  those  under  Ribault  shipwrecked  and  massacred,  36-41;  third 
expedition  under  De  Gourgues  takes  the  Spanish  forts,  43-48. 

Frobisher,  53,  61. 

Funerals,  105. 

Gadsden,  Christopher,  96, 

Georgia  settled,  78;  wars  with,  see  Oglethorpe. 

Gibbet,  104. 

Glacis,  126. 

Governor's-house,  120. 

Governor,  the  Spanish,  104. 

Guard-house,  104. 

Hancock,  John,  burned  in  effigy,  gi, 
Hawkins,  John,  relieves  the  French,  18, 
Highlanders  confined  in  fort,  128. 
Hispaniola,  69. 

"Huguenot  burying- ground,"  120. 
Huguenots,  see  French. 

Junipero,  Father,  84. 

King*s  Road,  89,  99. 

La  Barbarita,  102. 

La  Matanza^  49.  , 


142  Index, 

Laudonni^re,  in  command  of  French  expedition,  14;  left  in  Fort 

Caroline,  31;  escapes  and  makes  his  way  to  France,  32. 
Lee,  General  Charles,  expedition  against  St.  Augustine,  95. 
Le  Moyne,  17,  31,  32-33- 
Liberty  Boys,  go- 100. 
Light-house,  Spanish,  120. 
Lutherans,  see  French. 

McGirth,  92-93,  94. 

Mcintosh,  Rory,  94. 

Mcintosh,  John,  129. 

Market-and-pilot-house,  Spanish,  121. 

Market,  120. 

Massacre  of  Madrid,  105. 

Matanzas  inlet,  the  name,  49. 

Menendez,  receives  his  commission,  12;  voyage,  20-21;  arrives  at 
River  of  May,  23;  comes  to  River  of  Dolphins,  24;  founds 
San  Auguslin,  25-28;  takes  Fort  Caroline,  30-33;  massacres 
the  shipwrecked  French,  34-42;  death,  50. 

Mendoza,  the  chaplain,  20,  21,  26,  29,  30,  33. 

Minorca,  83-84. 

Minorcan  colony  at  New  Smyrna,  84;  attempted  flight,  85-86;  revolt 
and  removal  to  St.  Augustine,  87-89;  enlist  with  British  forces, 
89;  remain  after  cession  of  Florida  to  England,  102;  and  after 
cession  of  Florida  to  United  States,  118. 

Montiano,  defends  San  Marco,  80;  expedition  against  Georgia,  81. 

Monument,  Spanish,  121. 

Moore,  expedition  of,  77. 

Moral,  78. 

Nassau  taken,  97-98. 

Nea-Mathla,  killed  by  Osceola,  no. 

Negroes,  first  brought  to  North  America,  21,  25,  26;  fugitives  from 
Carolina  given  liberty  at  San  Augustin,  76;  formed  into  a  regi- 
ment, 78;  Fort  Moosa  garrisoned  by  them,  79;  shipload  of 
brought  to  St.  Augustine,  94;  join  the  expedition  against  Nassau, 
98;  rules  governing  in  second  Spanish  supremacy,  104;  fugitives 
among  the  Seminoles,  109,  T13;  abolition  of  slavery,  135. 

I«Jew  ^myrna,  84-90. 

Nuiiez  de  Balboa,  22. 


Index.  143 

Oglethorpe,  expedition  of,  79-8 1;  repulses  Montiano,  82. 

Okeechobee,  mission  bell,  63;  Indian  retreats,  iii. 

Osceola,  his  influence,  refuses  to  sign  treaty,  and  takes  up  arms,  iio; 

name,  no;  confinement  in  Fort  Marion,  114;  death,  115 
Palm  Sunday,  106. 
Patriots  in  St.  Augustine,  95-97' 
Peli icier,  88. 
Pillar  of  stone,  17. 
Pillory,  104. 
Pizarro,  22. 
Plaza,  102,  120-121. 
Powder-house,  102,  120. 

Raleigh's  colony  in  Virginia,  60. 

Rangers,  89,  94,  95. 

Redoubts,  103. 

Revolution,  the  American,  91-98. 

Ribault,  first  voyage,  15,  17;  arrives  at  River  of  May,  18;  comes  to 

attack   San  Augustin,  29;  shipwrecked,  36;  arrives  at  inlet,  39; 

surrenders,  40;  death,  41. 
River  of  Dolphins,  named  by  Laudonni^re,  15;  Spaniards  come  to,  24; 

name  changed  to  San  Augustin,  34. 
River  of  May,  named,  16;  name  changed  to  San  Mateo,  33. 
Romans,  Bernard,  86. 

Saint  Anastatia  Island  (alluded  to  not  by  name,  34,  49,  56,  74), 
75,  80,  96,  98,  loi,  119,  120,  127. 

Saint  Augustine.  San  Augustin  founded  by  Menendez  on  site  of 
Seloy,  25-28;  the  name,  27;  a  military  post,  49;  sacked  by  Drake, 
56-60;  taken  by  the  Boucaniers,  74;  refuge  for  runaways  from 
Carolina,  76;  besieged  by  Moore,  77;  besieged  by  Oglethorpe, 
79-81;  passes  into  possession  of  England,  and  name  changed  to 
Saint  Augustine,  82;  Minorcans  come  to,  ^9;  refuge  for  Tories, 
91;  center  of  militar^^ operations  against  Colonies,  95;  threatened 
by  Colonial  troops,  95;  Patriots  in,  95-97;  sends  expedition 
against  Nassau,  97;  evacuated  by  the  British,  99-100;  condition 
under  second  Spanish  rule,  102-106;  threatened  by  American 
invaders,  106;  comes  into  possession  of  the  United  States,  107; 
alarm  of  citizens  at  outbreak  of  Seminole  war,  108;  change  since 
the  civil  war,  11Q-124, 


144  Index. 

St.  Bartholomew's  Day,  87. 

St.  Simon's  Island,  81. 

San  Diego,  79. 

San  Palayo,  21,  23-24,  27;  sails  for  Spain,  29, 

Satourioua,  16,  17.  44-46,  50. 

Scopholites,  94, 

Sea-Kings,  hatred  of  Spaniards,  51-52;  attack  on  San  Augustin,  56, 

Sea-wall,  119,  120. 

Seloy,  14;  description  of,  16;  site  of  San  Augustin,  25. 

Seminoles,  Spanish  treatment  of,  102,  109;  conflicts  with  American 
settlers,  109;  beginning  of  the  war  with,  109;  meaning  of  name, 
no;  methods  of  warfare.  Ill;  their  hopeless  struggle,  113;  sur- 
render and  removal,  116-117. 

**Slave-pen,"  the  so-called,  120. 

Slavery  introduced  into  North  America,  25. 

Solis,  his  account  of  Ribault's  death,  41. 

Spain,  lays  claim  to  North  America,  ii;  fails  to  conquer  Florida,  11- 
12;  power  of  in  Sixteenth  century,  26,  52;  jealousy  of  other 
nations,  49;  treatment  of  intruders,  51;  strengthens  the  fortifica- 
tions in  Florida,  76;  cedes  Florida  to  England,  82;  acquires  pos- 
session again,  102;  cedes  Florida  to  the  United  States,  107, 

Spanish  Armada»  52,  61. 

Stag  of  Seloy,  16,  25,  26. 

Stocks,  104. 

Sullivan's  Island,  the  name,  76, 

Sun-dial,  102. 

Tar  and  feathers,  92. 

Terra  Florida^  see  Florida. 

Tolomato,  massacre  of  Franciscans  at,  63, 

Tories,  fly  to  St.  Augustine,  92, 

Tonyn,  Governor,  94. 

Toreyn,  94. 

Treasure  chest  in  the  fort,  102. 

Treasurer's  house,  Spanish,  122. 

Treasury  street,  the  name,  122. 

Trinity,  23-24;  appears  ofi"  San  Augustin,  29. 

Turnbull,  84,  87,  96. 


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